


Clause 13

by turn_2_page_394



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Play, Anal Play, Body Modification, Bondage, Cock Worship, Cuckolding, Dubious Consent, F/M, Femdom, Humiliation, Impregnation, Large Cock, Lust Potion/Spell, Marriage Contracts, Multi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Sexual Roleplay, Slavery, Spanking, cum
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-09-16 19:55:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9287447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turn_2_page_394/pseuds/turn_2_page_394
Summary: Unhappy with the state of Her marriage, Astoria Malfoy turns to an acquaintance from her Hogwarts years for help while Ginny Potter is forced to process the anger she still carries from the Second Wizarding War.A response to this challenge(Spoilers): http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/topic/57421-draco-the-cuckold/





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Completed a Grammar and Spelling pass.

“I will be activating clause 13,” said Astoria Malfoy calmly across the long expanse of the dining table.

 

Draco froze in place, his fork half raised to his mouth. He very slowly placed his fork back on his plate. Despite the sumptuous food on offer, his appetite disappeared in a flash. His life was over. All because of that cursed contract.

 

The Malfoy line had only just survived the fall of Voldemort. On the night of the Battle Of Hogwarts things had gotten so out of control for the family that whichever side won that night, the Malfoy's knew that they would suffer.

 

It had taken three unbreakable vows, most of their considerable fortune and the most draconian marriage contract ever written to keep the family out of Azkaban.

 

The once proud house of Malfoy was now little more than a vassal to the Noble House of Greengrass.

 

“Really, my l-love,” Draco stammered, “I don't think that's necessary. If you'd just give it a little more time, I'm sure-”

 

“I have waited quite long enough. Besides for all your excellent breeding, dear Draco, your father only managed to sire you. One child. The Weasley's managed seven; your mother was one of three for goodness sake. And it appears that Potter is going for some kind of record with poor Ginny. No. I have waited long enough Draco, if it were going to happen without assistance, it would have by now. I am activating clause 13.”

 

Draco raged internally. With the stiff wounded pried only a pure-blood could manage, he brought his serviette up to his mouth and excused himself from the room. He could feel Astoria's mocking gaze follow him across the large room.

 

He stalked angrily through the halls of Malfoy Manor. Of course, it was Malfoy Manor in name only these days. Ever since he had been forced to sign that marriage contract, it had been for all intents and purposes, under Greengrass control. As his father said, it was the only way to preserve the pride of the Malfoy line.

 

After the war had ended and the dust had settled Draco found himself all but excommunicated from the Pure-blood social strata. No woman of pure blood wanted to be associated with the Malfoy line, traitors and known Deatheaters as they were. He might have had some luck marrying an ambitious half-blood, but that would have ruined them in a worse way.

 

The only family that would give them the time of day was the Greengrass's. Astoria had looked Draco up and down once with a calculating look on her aristocratic face. She had proposed a deal to the heads of the two families. It would all be written out in her marriage contract.

 

The Malfoy’s would seed the manor and control of their finances to Astoria who would act as regent to the family until a Malfoy heir was of age. The Malfoy’s would be reintegrated into high society by the Greengrass's over time. The Greengrass's would gain influence and acclaim for 'rehabilitating a fallen house', and the Malfoy's could maintain their pure-blood line.

 

The heads of both houses had agreed to it almost immediately. What that meant for Draco was that he could swan about in public acting the unapproachable epitome of pure-blood society, but at home, he belonged to Astoria.

 

As per the contract, all of this was kept well away from the public eye. No one knew, for instance, that Lucius and Narcissa had been evicted from the main house and were living in an old Coach House on the far side of the property. No one knew that Draco was little better than a house elf.

 

It was the burden he carried for his line. That was until she mentioned clause 13.

 

 

***

 

 

Astoria sat alone at the table, her petulant husband having stormed off in a huff some five minutes ago. She was unconcerned by his anger. She was mostly unconcerned with anything he did. Unbreakable Vows were funny like that.

 

She tapped her silver spoon on the caramelised crust of her Crème brûlée, then brought a single perfect spoonful to her red lips. She so relished these little rituals. She sat and savoured her favourite desert thinking about who she would approach for help.

 

None of the pure-bloods would want to take partake in it. Besides, that might infringe on the contract. She had to keep this out of high society or risk the wrath of that beautiful piece of paper. No, blood would not be the deciding factor here. What she needed was to compare three important factors.

 

One, the donor must be... potent. She needed someone who had proven themselves virile. Draco would at least be grateful for that; the more virile the donor was, the less Draco would have to endure.

 

Two, the donor must be magically powerful. Their magic must suffuse all parts of their being or else the potion would never work.

 

And three, it must infuriate and humiliate Draco.

 

She let out a little sigh into the large silent hall. Her only regret in life was that she had not 'examined the goods' before making her purchase. The Malfoy wealth was all well and good, but Draco was to put it gently; underwhelming.

 

His lovemaking was rather dull and quite passionless. He wasn't particularly inventive either. On top of all that was his poor little cock. The thing was smallish, ugly and pale. Draco didn't exactly wow in the stamina department either, and his... emissions were always small and watery.

 

Thus clause 13.

 

There was only one man who fit the bill. She would have to pay a call to Ginevra!

 

***

 

Ginny would normally have burnt any letter with the name Malfoy on it as a matter of principle, but it arrived at just the right time. She was standing outside her home having just rounded up the children and sent them off to Grandma via Portkey when an elegant owl swooped down and dropped a letter in front of her.

 

Reflexively she snatched it out of the air, the ingrained reflexes of a professional chaser overriding her sense of caution. She read the first two words on the outside of the letter, 'spa day' then her eyes landed on the sender.

 

Astoria Malfoy.

 

In a flash, Ginny had her wand out and was performing ever detection charm she'd ever heard of, including a couple of rare ones that Harry had uncovered.

 

Nothing. It was just paper.

 

Perhaps it was the fact that it was the off-season, meaning she was slightly bored. Perhaps it was the mention of the spa day. She always got a little frazzled by the kids. Perhaps it was the raw curiosity, but Ginny Potter read Astoria's letter and perhaps, changed everything.

 

***

 

She was bliss made flesh. Harry's massages had a certain earnest charm to them and what it almost always led to was the most fun anyone could have off a broomstick, but this was on another level. The professionals at Sopwell house knew exactly what they were doing.

 

Ginny floated weightlessly in a room lit by a few gently flickering candles. Their warm golden light bathing the room is a beautiful soothing haze. Steam hung heavy in the room, and gentle music washed over her. Spells and skilled hands and lotions and ointments and heat packs and a constant stream of wonderful things had wrung every bit of stress and tension from her smooth, strong body.

 

Astoria hadn't said much when she first arrived, saying that it could wait until after. She had gone so far as to offer Ginny her wand, a demonstration of complete trust. The old traditions stated that Ginny could snap Astoria's wand if she so chose, and face no repercussions. It had gone a long way to easing Ginny's troubled mind.

 

Instead, they had been pampered and tended to for hours on end. Astoria proved to be a wonderful companion, asking after her children and seeming to relish the stories. She asked insightful questions about Ginny's Quidditch career without being at all sycophantic. Astoria was gracious and surprisingly empathetic, and her patient ear did as much to sooth Ginny as the massages did.

 

Finally, they were levitated into a new room and slowly dipped into a hot mud bath.

 

“So you're no doubt wondering why I contacted you. I'm sorry for all the waiting, but I felt you deserve the pampering free of any other worries,” said Astoria finally, her bright grey eyes locked on Ginny who sat languidly on the far side of the mud pool.

 

“Anytime,” said Ginny with a yawn.

 

“I'm also sorry if what I say causes you any distress. I promise you I am asking as a... well I am being as genuine as I can be, I know you Gryffindor's prize being upfront about things so here goes. I want a baby.”

 

Ginny opened her eyes at this and sat up a bit straighter in the pool, the smooth dark mud clinging to her lightly freckled skin as she did so, “I know I've had seven of them, but if you're asking how that happened, I can't tell you. Harry and I just got lucky.”

 

“Hardly lucky. You've had two sets of triplets, Ginny. Even Molly didn't manage more than twins,” Astoria sighed dramatically, “I know you don't care for my husband, and truth be told I don't either some days, but I need to produce an heir if I am to redeem the Malfoy line. I think it's a worthy goal, and could do much to heal the community in the years to come, but somehow we just cannot manage it.”

 

Ginny was on guard now, “What does this have to do with me” she asked, a frown forming on her delicate face.

 

“To tell you I need you to sign a document promising you won't tell anyone else. It's a stipulation of my marriage contract that it remain private. I leave it up to you to decide but I promise you, it's juicy.”

 

Ginny struggled with it for a full minute before giving in. Astoria smiled and summoned one of her elves. The elf held up the contract for Ginny to read but it was a straightforward one. If she signed, she wouldn't be able to share what they talked about in this room on this specific date with anyone without Astoria's permission. Even if she did do it, Astoria could still cancel the punishment if she deemed it accidental.

 

Ginny signed.

 

“Thank you, Ginny, I promise you won't regret this,” Astoria took a deep breath in a began, “As I said, Draco has been unable to sire a child with me. My marriage contract is rather... specific. I tested myself and a sample unwittingly provided by Draco at St. Mungo's and they reported that it's Draco that is the problem party. This allowed me to enact clause 13.”

“What does that mean,” asked Ginny, now curious.

 

“I have almost total control over Draco until he manages to father a child with me. With the power of the document I can force him into doing anything I want so long as it furthers the goal of my getting pregnant.”

 

“What does this have to do with me?” Ginny asked.

 

“I intend to make Draco take a fertility potion. It's part of a larger ritual, but it requires a... donation both powerful and potent.”

 

Ginny just looked incredulously at Astoria. She would have stormed off long ago if it hadn't been for the delicious feeling of the mud bath.

 

“What that means,” said Astoria hurriedly, “well... I thought it through and came to the obvious choice of Harry. I wanted to talk it over with you first. Before you say no let me explain, all you would need to do is collect a sample from Harry, I would perform a small ritual and then Draco would be forced to drink it.”

 

Ginny's face went from horrified to blank.

 

Astoria continued, “I know how much you despise Draco, his family did you a great wrong. I thought that the idea of a little revenge would be attractive to you. Please, Ginny, I'm asking you to help me and humiliate Draco.”

 

“Thank you for the spa day, Astoria. It's been interesting,” and without another word, Ginny stood up, the mud contouring to her body like a second skin and left without a backwards glance.”

 

***

 

Ginny returned home to find the whole family setting the table for dinner. Harry had somehow managed to wrangle them into helping, and they all chattered excitedly about their day. Harry was at the stove helping James, their first son who was standing on a chair, stirring a great big pot. The trio, Lily, Dora and Luna were her three beautiful girls from her second pregnancy, and they were busy washing up dishes and handing them to the terrors.

 

The terrors were from her third pregnancy, two identical boys, and a girl.

 

She fondly called them the terrors because the two youngest boys were like Fred and George reincarnate, save for their hair which was like Harry's. Fabian and Gideon were going to level Hogwarts to the ground one day, and they would do it with the help of their birth sister, Ariana who was just as cunning and twice as wicked.

 

Their seven children, who fought and squabbled just like any siblings, were working in perfect harmony. The girls were doing dishes, Ginny saw that Harry had lent them his wand, and they were trying to Scurgify each dish, passing the wand between them. When one managed to cast the spell correctly the dish was handed off to either Fabian, Gideon or Ariana who took them and placed them on the table with a solemn dignity Ginny had rarely seen in her three youngest.

 

And Harry, her wonderful, handsome, brave Harry was surrounded by family. His family. He'd never looked Happier.

 

Ariana spotted mum first, and the spell broke. Everyone but James, who was 'too old for all that stuff, mum' rushed over to great her. She was happy to be home.

 

But long after everyone else had been put to bed and even Harry was snoring ever so softly in that terribly cute way he did, Ginny lay awake in bed.

 

***

 

“So what changed your mind?” Astoria asked, three weeks later.

 

The two of them were sitting together, in a quiet café just off Diagon Aly, over a light lunch.

 

“Family. When I got home that night, I saw Harry with the whole family. As much as I detest your husband, that doesn't mean that you don't deserve a chance at that happiness.”

“And humiliating Draco had nothing to do with it?” asked Astoria with a raised eyebrow.

 

“Fine yes. I have some clauses of my own,” Said Ginny flatly.

“Naturally”

 

“I want a pensive memory of him drinking it.”

 

Astoria threw back her head and laughed in a most undignified fashion, “Is that all. I was going to owl you one either way. How could I keep something so delicious all to myself? I'd burst. Anything else?”

 

“I want you to humiliate him as much as possible while you do it. For the memory.”

 

“Done”

 

Astoria again called her house elf, and the went through the contract line by line until they were both happy. Astoria also included limitations stating that they could only use Harry's donation for this one ritual and any leftovers, which Astoria promised there would be none, would be destroyed.

 

The signed and shook hands and departed.

 

“I eagerly await your next owl, Ginny. And thank you.”

 

***

 

 

Once again, Ginny was the only person awake at the Potter house. Harry had exhausted himself playing with the children all day, being pulled this way and that as the horde competed for his attention. Such were the delights of their time off with the family.

 

Ginny couldn't sleep, she was to tense, too excited and honestly too guilty. She really shouldn't be doing with without asking, but this was revenge. This was Weasley family business, and she was sure that Harry would understand.

 

But he would never need to know. She silently cast a sleeping spell on her husband. He wouldn't wake up for another hour no matter what she did.

 

She pulled back the covers and unbuttoned Harry's pyjamas. Even in the relaxed state of sleep, Harry looked fantastic. His abs were shadowed wonderfully in the moonlight that shone in through the window, and his broad chest raised up and down as he breathed contentedly. At twenty-eight, he was a work of art.

 

Next, she unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down just enough to free her favourite toy. She reached out and took hold of his cock. It was warm and soft to the touch. She played with it lovingly for a long while, tracing her fingers over it and then squeezing it gently just to feel it. She wrapped her fingers around the middle and slowly pulled down, drawing his skin down and revealing his glans to the moonlight.

 

It wasn't long before he was rock hard. Merlin, he had a beautiful cock. Her tiny hands could comfortably fit more than twice over on its impressive length, and it was thick and solid as stone the whole way up. The head of his penis flared out wonderfully; she shuddered at the many memories of it scrapping in and out of her. She drew it close for a moment, and pressed her face into the underside where its broad base lead into his huge sack. She breathed in deeply, savouring the incredible musky smell.

 

Even after all this time, just the smell alone was enough to get her wet. She cupped his large balls in her hands, before running her tongue from ball to tip. It tasted salty and musky and undeniably male.

 

She spent a long while just kissing and licking the gorgeous length of meat that was dwarfing her small hands. She rubbed it all over her face and traced the many veins with her sensitive fingers returning to the top to greedily suckle at the constant stream of clear pre-cum that oozed from its fat purple head.

 

Astoria had instructed her to simply jerk him off into a bottle, but Ginny had worked herself into a fever, and there was no way she was going to let her man cum anywhere else but deep inside her. She would let it drip out into a bottle later. It pleased her to know that Draco would be drinking her run off.

 

Rubbing her pussy in vigorous circular motions, Ginny moved to straddle Harry, the forbidden nature of what she was doing turning her on, something fierce. She was dripping wet, her bright red pubic hair was slick, and her fingers slipped between her pink lips readily. She straddled Harry and aimed his glistening cock head at her hungry entrance and slowly sunk onto his thick, rigid cock.

 

She pumped her small frame up and down, her lips dragging in and out in an obscene fashion as she lifted up, his girth stretching her out wonderfully.

 

It wasn't long before the huge cock inside of her, the frantic work of her hand on her clit and the sheer delightful wrongness of it all sent her crashing into a shuddering orgasm. She spasmed helplessly on Harry for a long while, all else forgotten.

 

Slowly she returned to earth. She caught her breath and got to work. She moved at the pace that always worked on Harry, squeeze her groin, making herself as tight as she could. Sure enough not a minute later she felt Harry swell. As she looked down, she saw his balls contract into the base of his thick shaft and then bulge before she felt a warmth flood her insides.

 

Harry's heavy balls weren't just for show, he produced copious amounts of cum and Ginny loved it. When they had first started fooling around, he had sneaked into her room at the Burrow in the dead of night, and she tasted his cock for the first time. She had been completely unprepared for the torrential downpour of cum he could produce as he plastered her with his seed. They had been forced to sneak into the bathroom and spent a long while cleaning off.

 

Even sleeping Harry didn't disappoint. She sat contentedly on him for a long moment before summoning the bottle over to her. She leaned back and slowly pulled off her husband. As soon as his broad head popped free, she placed the wide head of the bottle against her opening. She felt great dollops of his seed pour out of her, dripping in large, viscous waves, like honey dripping off a knife. She squeezed herself again and yet more of his beautiful cum leaked out of her.

 

The large bottle was nearly full, and she delighted at the quantity. Astoria would ensure that Draco swallowed the whole damn thing. He wouldn't even be able to pinch his nose and knock it back like medicine. No, he'd have to endure every thick mouthful she had harvested from her mate. She felt primal. She felt vengeful. She felt powerful.

 

She capped the bottle with a flick of her wand and wave between Harry's legs. His cock had flopped to the side, its length glistening with their mingled juices, revealing the hypnotising texture in explicit detail.

 

Ginny held the bottle and began to touch herself again. As it turned out, vengeance was the greatest aphrodisiac as she brought herself to orgasm three more times that night, just looking at the bottle.

 

***

 

Astoria Malfoy was having a particularly good day. She sat in her finely upholstered study in a high-backed chair at her desk, a heavy old antique that Lucius once used. She sat quietly and sipped her wine as the small fireplace crackled pleasantly and gave off a warm orange glow.

 

She took up her quill and dipped the tip into the well, and wrote out another letter thanking Lady Parkinson for her help at the Wizengamot. Pansy had been such a deer to Astoria these last few years. Frustrating as it was, Draco had managed to hold onto his seat in the Wizengamot, part of upholding the pride of his line. Astoria hadn't been too concerned with it at the time as Draco was supposed to consult with her over his activities, but the arrogant berk had never done so.

 

So Astoria, being the pragmatic Slytherin that she was, found ways of amusing herself at Draco's expense. Draco would campaign heavily for a law or decree, and Astoria would undermine it from the shadows.

 

Draco had many enemies and few allies at this point, and Astoria delighted in rallying them against her ignorant husband. Ever since sending that first letter to Ginny, Astoria had been shaping things so that Draco's work would always be toppled by Harry. He would come home after a long day campaigning, his blood boiling, muttering dark thoughts about his rival that had somehow manage to push through another law protecting muggle-borns or repeal a piece of legislation that favoured pure-bloods.

 

There was an art to this. The build-up was, to Astoria, as pleasurable as the payoff.

 

So there she sat in her fine study, its walls lined with precious books as she amused herself with tormenting the Malfoy heir. It was only made better by the arrival of an unfamiliar owl.

 

Smiling a wicked smile, Astoria untied the small package tied to the owl's leg. In it was a small bottle, and a short note. She read the letter then tapped her wand on the bottle. It returned to its former size, about that of a wine bottle. It was filled all the way to the cork with a white liquid.

 

Yes, today was a particularly good day.

 

***

 

The Pensive memory had arrived a week ago, but Ginny hadn't had any free time to watch it. Instead the small vile had been burning a hole, buried in her sock drawer. Now the house was empty. Harry, together with Ron and Neville had taken all the kids to Shell cottage for a day at the beach.

 

Ginny couldn't go because she had to prepare for a meeting with the managers of the Harpies which meant she had a few hours between when the all the Potter children departed and her meeting began.

 

Now, finally, she would watch the memory. She stole into Harry's study and poured the silvery memory into the Potter family Pensive and leaned in over the bowl.

 

She floated down into the memory to find Astoria standing in front of a mirror, in a large bedroom.

 

“Hello, Ginny and welcome to my memory. I received your letter on a most suitable occasion. I'm not sure what you know about it, but on the night it arrived Draco had just lost another Wizengamot session to your Husband. Draco couldn't stand the idea of Muggle parents being able to visit their children; he can just barely tolerate the muggle-borns themselves. You should have seen it, weeks of work for an appeal, scrounging up the votes and trading promises and in comes, Harry Potter, speaks for all of half a minute and the hall votes Draco down.”

 

Ginny knew most of this, but Astoria's delighted schadenfreude over her husband's defeat warmed her soul. Harry had heard about the appeal at the last minute and Portkeyed to the ministry from several countries away and given a short but moving speech about Hermione being petrified and her parents being unable to visit. He glossed over the fact that Hermione's parents never even knew she was in trouble, but Harry wasn't above a little manipulation despite his distaste for politics as a whole.

 

“So I thought I would rile him up, get him absolutely steaming over potter then make him drink it.”

 

The Memory faded to black, Astoria smiling a truly wicked smile into the mirror.

 

Ginny floated down into a large dining hall to see Astoria sitting primly on a large comfortable armchair while Draco paced back and forth in front of a grand fireplace. Draco was obviously agitated, and Ginny listened with no small amount of satisfaction to his impotent raving.

 

“Months of work. Months! I had to make deals with half the neutrals. Every single one of them demanded a win or lose trade, so now I'm stuck voting for the neutral block for half the bloody year for a Motion that didn't even pass!”

 

Ginny saw Astoria smirk behind Draco's back, “It's a pity Potter was there,” she said, baiting Malfoy expertly.

 

“Potter! Potter! That jumped up half-blood doesn't even deserve entrance to the Ministry let alone a standing session of the Wizengamot! He's worse than Author Weasley for Merlin's sake. Months of deals and setbacks and he just swaggers in at the last minute and talk about Granger of all people, and everyone just nods their heads, and that's fucking that!”

“The public adores hi, dear, not to mention, seven children. The house of Potter is back in a big way, and everyone knows it.”

 

“He should stick to fucking his whore then and leave leading this country to real men!” spat Draco.

 

“Speaking of real men, I think it's time,” Astoria announced.

 

“What?” asked Draco, still distracted by his outrage.

 

“I Astoria Greengrass hereby enact Clause 13 without provision. So mote it be.”

 

Both Malfoy's glowed for a moment.

 

Draco paled to the point his face took on a bluish tone, “What have you done?” he demanded.

 

“None of that dear, it upsets me when you yell. No talking until I say otherwise,” said Astoria, her voice dripping with condescension.

 

Draco's face flushed a blotchy red, and he furiously tried to speak only to find himself gagging on his tongue.

 

Astoria crossed her arms thoughtfully, “yes this is much better, I think it will help our chances of preserving the Malfoy line if you stay quiet from here on out. Now for the sake of our audience, oh, by the way, Draco dear I will be sending a pensive of this to a dear friend of mine... where was I, oh yes, I have complete control over your actions so long as it pertains to preserving the Malfoy line. Of course, Lucius was never the best at contracting, the Goblins did it all for him you know, pity about them falling out isn't it? The wording is terribly vague, why it gives me all sorts of leeway. For instance, I think it would help me preserve the Malfoy line if you referred to me as Mistress from now on, I want you to agree to this dear husband.”

 

Draco fought not to say anything for a long time, and veins began to bulge up and down his neck. Finally, the dam burst and he collapsed breathless to the ground, “Yes... mistress” he managed to say in between huge gasps of air.

 

“Yes, that does all sorts of things for me, why I feel more fertile already. I think it would help preserve the line if you took off all your clothes. Then you can go ahead and fold them into a neat little pile for me.”

 

Draco glared at his wife for a long moment before his limbs started to move, as if by themselves. Methodically he stripped down completely revealing his pasty white body.

 

Ginny was saddened for Astoria to see that Malfoy had lost the leanness of his youth. Now he was just pudgy and unfit. While she pitied Astoria, she revelled in the feeling of superiority. Her Harry had never looked better. She could get lost in his chest, and his abs delighted her in new ways every day. She loved that Harry's body wasn't the overly sculpted type she saw in so many old works of art, but the result of years of hard work and good living. Harry was built for purpose, there was nothing delicate about his build these days, it was all practical.

 

All man.

 

She delighted that Draco paled, quite literally as it turned out, in comparison. Clearly, blood wasn't everything. Ginny watched on avidly as Draco folded his clothes. She suspected it might be the first time he'd ever had to do it.

 

“Very good Draco,” crooned Astoria, “Now just put them over on the couch there, you won't be needing them again tonight.”

 

Draco did so, his eyes full of murderous intent.

 

“And your wand, just leave that there. Wands are for wizards Draco. I think I'd like to hear you say you agree; I feel it would really help preserve the line.” She finished with a cruel chuckle.

 

Draco's face twitched, his hand balled into fists but all he could do was stand naked in the middle of the room. Finally, he broke again, the pressure of the Vow becoming too much to bear.

 

“Yes... Mistress, wands are for wizards.” Draco practically chewed each word, imbuing them with a seething hatred.

 

“And from now on Draco dear, you're little more than transport for those shrivelled little raisins you call balls. What are you?”

 

This time Draco managed to take one step forward, no doubt wanting to lunge at his tormentor. His feet disobeyed his command, and he toppled to the ground.

 

Ginny heard a crunch and suspected that he'd landed on his nose and broken it.

 

“What are you Draco, I really don't like having to ask again, it might even be a breach of contract.”

 

Draco let out a scream of pain. His voice was shrill and horse. His cry ended in a fit of heavy coughing.

 

Ginny wondered if it was the pain of his nose being broken or the magic of the contract that was hurting him more. She'd never felt more excited. This was amazing. She drank in every detail, each second a balm for all the insults and bullshit her entire family had had to endure at the hands the colossal prat that was Draco Malfoy.

 

“Mistress, I am little more than transport for my tiny balls, please make it stop!” Begged Draco as he lay face down on his own carpet.

 

“That's right you are,” said Astoria in a sing-song baby voice. She stood up from her seat. She stepped over Draco and walked over to the bar and took hold of a large familiar bottle.

 

“Now Draco,” she said walking back to the centre of the room, “You don't like this do you?”

 

“No Mistress” groaned Draco.

 

“I understand,” she said in a cold imitation of caring, “If you drink this it will all be over, it's going to cure all your problems. Remember that little ritual I talked about, well all you have to do is drain this bottle.”

 

She sat down on the floor and tucked her legs under her. Then she Rolled Draco over to reveal his bloody, terrified face.

 

“Sit up a bit Draco,” she instructed patting her lap.

 

Dutifully Draco lifted himself up and rested his head on her lap. To Ginny, the pose looked like Draco was some giant baby about to suckle at his mother's teat. Ginny moved closer and sat facing Astoria, Draco lying perpendicular between the two kneeling girls.

 

Astoria manoeuvred Draco about until his head lay in the crook of her arm. She was about to bottle feed her husband so it suited.

 

“Now Draco, I know it will help the line if you drink this whole bottle, once you start I want you to keep drinking until nothing is left, no matter what is that understood?”

 

“Yes. Mistress,” said Draco, his tone suddenly timid.

 

Astoria deftly removed the cap from the bottle and held the tip under her nose. Ginny smiled as she heard Astoria mutter, “That lucky bitch”.

 

Draco motioned to his throat, clearly wishing to say something. Astoria smiled warmly at her compliant husband.

 

“Go on Draco; you can ask your Mistress a question.”

 

“What is it... Mistress?” he asked fearfully.

 

“This is one of the most powerful fertility potions ever invented. Well technically it's not a potion, but it's an essential part of the ritual that you and I will be taking part of. Once you drink this, we'll be one step closer to having a little baby Malfoy running around the manor. All you have to do is drink the whole thing, don't stop for any reason.”

 

And with that, she brought the bottle to Draco's pale lips and upended the bottle.

 

The white viscous fluid slowly made its way up the neck of the bottle, and it pooled in a great drip before finally touching the top of Draco's tongue. More and more of the sticky, hot fluid filled his mouth. Finally, while staring wide-eyed up at Astoria, he took a single swallow.

 

“That's good, Draco, keep swallowing. Now that you've started you can't stop for any reason. Not even when I tell you,” she leaned in, and Ginny did too, eager to finally hear the words, “Not even when I tell you, you're drinking Harry Potter's cum.”

 

Draco's eyes widened even more, and his chest started heaving. His body trembled and spasmed, but the magic of the contract held him still. Ginny could hear him screaming internally as he made a futile bid to push the emptying bottle of cum out of his mouth.

 

Astoria smiled triumphantly and started to stroke Draco's neck, eventually the sensation forced him to swallow, and his face flushed a deep, shameful red. Hot tears fell down his face as he was forced to swallow again and again.

 

“Ginny promises me this was just a single load from Harry... while he was sleeping. Can you believe that? I see now why they have seven children already. His balls must be so big. So full,” She laughed, “About as full as your pretty little mouth I'd say.”

 

Ginny had entered a savage, vengeful nirvana and she was nothing but pure cruel ecstasy for a long, long moment. She exulted in the complete degradation of one of the men she hated most in this world. This was for Katie and Ron and Dumbledore she thought, you fucking slime, you worm, you cum guzzling faggot whore!

 

Draco swallowed the last of his rivals seed, its thick hot texture staining his tongue for all time.

 

“So good,” crooned Astoria, “Ginny will just love this. Stick your tongue in the bottle dear; you missed a bit” She said laughing. “I'm sending her the memory of this as she was so kind as to collect this donation... from Harry potters... big... heavy... balls.”

 

 

 

 

 

***

 

 

Ginny ascended out of the memory; her groin was liquid fire. She needed her man; she needed him now. Brandishing her wand, she cried out, “Expecto Patronum!”

 

The bright glittering form of a rearing horse burst from the tip of her wand cantered around the room before trotting up to her, nuzzling her gently in greeting.

 

“I need you to take a message to Harry, can you do that for me,” asked Ginny. She'd gotten into the habit of asking her Patronus politely ever since she'd seen Luna do it. Ginny liked to think that she had an easier time casting the intricate charm because of her small act of kindness.

 

The horse just whinnied agreeably.

 

“Harry, you need to get home right away, it's an emergency,” she said, and her Patronus gave one shake of its mane and was off.

 

Ginny hoped that framing her message as an emergency, and in her mind, it really was an emergency, would allow Harry to leave whatever situation he was in without being questioned too much.

 

Less than five minutes later an extremely puffed Harry Potter crashed through the front door, wand raised, eyes wild.

 

“Ginny! Ginny, are you ok? Are the kids ok?” he yelled, his voice frantic with worry.

 

Ginny could have slapped herself. Of course, Harry would react this way. He'd no doubt immediately thought Ginny and the children were being attacked like his parents.

 

“I'm fine Harry; I'm so sorry I just...” Ginny blushed, lost for words, “Oh goodness, I've really put my elbow in the butter this time.”

 

Harry crossed the distance between them in an instant and surrounded her in a hug. She melted into the embrace, guilty at how he was now reassuring her.

 

“Is everyone ok?” he asked, his deep voice vibrating through his warm chest.

 

“Everyone's fine, I just needed to see you.” she finished, her voice small. Her adrenalin had spiked when Harry had charged in, and now that he was holding her, the fire in her belly started to grow again.

 

“Needed me, what for?” he asked, his voice full of concern.

 

As an answer, she reached her hand around his neck, ran her fingers through his hair and pulled him into a searing kiss. She put everything she could into it. She wanted him to feel everything he meant to her. She wanted him to feel like that first amazing kiss after she'd won the Quidditch match when out of the blue, the man of her dreams had kissed her.

 

But it wasn't enough. She wanted to taste him, smell him feel him. Right here and now, she needed to be his, for him to take her. She wanted to strip away the Auror, the celebrity, the father and leave nothing behind but a raging bull that only she could sate.

 

She started ripping off their clothes as fast as she could.

 

“What's gotten into you, Gin?” asked Harry, as he tugged his robe off.

 

“You, in a minute. Then everything will be all right.”

 

“This was your emergency... a- a booty call?”

 

“Please Harry it's been sooo long since we've just fucked like this... like animals!” said Ginny as she fought with the zip of her jeans.

 

“Like teenagers you mean,” said Harry smiling. He placed his warm hands on Ginny's, and she stilled. He took hold of her zip and slowly pulled it down.

 

“What do you want, Gin?” he asked, eyes locked with hers.

 

“I need you to fuck me as hard as you can, any way you can.” she said as firmly as she could.

 

Harry looked uncertain for a fraction of a second before a familiar look came over his face. It was that blazing look he'd had the first time they'd kissed.

 

He roughly pulled her jeans down to mid-thigh, making her lose her balance slightly. As she almost stumbled, he grabbed her by the waist and spun her on the spot. He bent her over, her chest lying flat on the kitchen table.

 

“Please Harry, please I need it please fuck MEEEEEEEEE” Ginny's begging was cut off as Harry knelt down behind her and pressed his face into her sex, his tongue dancing on her hot flesh.

 

“Merlin Ginny, what's got you so wet?”

 

He buried his face right into her. His rained kisses and licks all over her now drippy slit then pulled back and breathed in deeply. Ginny felt his large hands kneading her ass, and then he pulled, and her flower bloomed in front of him.

 

She felt his breath, cool on here boiling skin as he came close and with agonising slowness, he drew his tongue from the bass her spread lips all the way down to her clit, which he began to circle relentlessly.

 

Ginny was in heaven; he was worshipping her cunt with his face. It felt like they hadn't done this in years. But it wasn't enough. She wanted him to be rough with her, to ache with the presence of him, to feel him using her as only he ever would. She needed to give herself wholly to him.

 

“Please Harry, please fuck me, just fuck me, please I need it, please, I'm ready I can take it, as hard as you can, please fuck me, fill me... please I want to feel you stretch me, bury yourself in me.”

 

She chanted this into the polished wood of the kitchen table, her hair a wild tangle, her hand grasping to the wood for dear life.

 

Harry abruptly stood, and she sensed him shuffle then the heard the sound of a zip, followed by rustling. She froze when she felt him rest his length on her, lying hot and weighty between the cleft of her ass, making its way up to her lower back.

 

“You want this?” he teased.

 

All Ginny could do was breathlessly chant please over and over. Finally, he drew himself back, his thick shaft sliding over her skin until the tip was pressing against her cunt. She waited for him to push into her.

 

Instead, he just held still as she squirmed and mewled underneath him.

 

Ginny had never been a patient woman, least of all now. She was done asking; she was done playing. She grabbed hold of the table and began to push back onto him.

 

She pushed and pushed and pushed until she finally came to rest against his hips. She knew she'd be tender after this, having completely forgone the usual ceremony of taking him bit by bit, but damn it; she wanted to ache of him.

 

Harry was speechless. Who was this succubus and what had she done with his wife? Not that he was capable of complaining right now. What with their busy careers, seven kids and finding time to be social, it had been years since he'd found Ginny in a state like this.

 

The last time had resulted in Fabian, Gideon and Ariana.

 

And the way she'd impaled her self on his hard cock was doing all sorts of wonderful things to him. The creature in his chest roared its approval, urging him on.

 

Harry leant over Ginny, placing his hand over hers which was flat on the table. With the other, he bunched up her mane of red hair and began to relentlessly thrust into his gorgeous wife.

 

For Ginny, Harry's plunging length both soothed and stoked the burning fire in her core. He dove into her in long slow, relentless thrusts, then pivoted back, rolling his hips so the hit of his amazing cock dragged itself along the roof of her tunnel.

 

Each stroke he pulled out all the way until just the broad head of his cock threatened to burst from her stretched lips, passing over that spot. And Each stroke it made Ginny shudder more and more.

 

This is what she needed. This is who she needed. Only her Harry could make her feel this way, and she loved it, love him.

 

Ginny drew one of Harry's large, calloused hands to her soft red lips and started frantically kissing it, her mind desperate to show how much she needed him. She Lifted off the table slightly to look at him, only for his free hand to push her back down.

 

“No,” was all he said, his voice deep and husky, “Bad girls who scare their husbands get fucked from behind on the kitchen table. Isn't that right?” he asked, hilting himself deep inside her, and pressing his hips hard against her ass.

 

Ginny couldn't speak, his dick had knocked the wind out of her, all the came out was a deep, satisfied gurgle.

 

Harry started to move again, faster and harder this time. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Ginny knew that her thighs would be bruised black and blue from being smashed against the edge of the table, but she didn't care, all that mattered right now was feeling her man.

 

“Ginny you're so wet, you're so hot, and I'm so close. Please,” he panted, “please cum for me. Show me how hard you can cum!”

 

He started to swell inside her, a sure sign that he was moments away from filling her completely with his beautiful thick cum! She flashed back to Astoria force feeding the very same cum to Draco, the cum that she had coaxed from the heavy swinging balls that where right now slapping onto the back of her thighs.

 

Ginny Potter came hard.

 

“Hhnnnnnnnnnggggggggghhhhh!” groaned Ginny, almost biting her tongue as her jaw clenched, her everything clenched. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't move all she could do was squeeze.

 

Her cock stuffed cunt bore down on the steel hard rod inside it for a long moment.

 

“Merlin Ginny,” Gasped Harry, “you're so fucking tight, gonna’ cum!”

 

Ginny managed to gasp in some air and then she felt Harry pulse deep inside of her and the pressure building inside of her finally burst.

 

She cried out anomalistically, the veins in her neck bulging, her nails scraping deep into the wood of the table, Harry's squeezing her waist tight as he pushed every last millimetre into her.

 

Clear, sparkling fluid surged out of Ginny, coating Harry's balls as they constricted hard against Harry's broad shaft as he coated her cervix in his seed. And all Ginny could do was howl in pleasure, her world blurry and warm and breathless as endless ropes of cum were pumped deep into her sex.

 

She could hear Harry groaning loudly behind her, and she started to shudder, the stream of girl cum started to splatter down her thighs in time with her full body shakes. And still, Harry was groaning and pulsing and pulling at her hips with all his strength.

 

Finally, after an age, their eruptions slowed to a trickle and Harry who'd been taut as a bowstring, collapsed on top of her, breathing hard into her ear.

 

Between breaths, he mumbled, “love you,” over and over.

 

Ginny was lost to the world. Everything was perfect. The warmth of her core, the profound wetness of Harry's cum within her, the weight of him on top of her and the familiar smells of home, mixed in with liberal amounts of their scents.

 

Harry shifted behind her, trying to stand up, but his footing slipped on the puddle that Ginny had made on the polished wooden floor. He fell backwards and instinctively held onto Ginny's hips, his still hard cock, almost picking her up off the table, and together they collapsed back onto the ground, Ginny still stuffed chock full of her husbands cock.

 

Harry let out a groan as he recovered from the shock, causing Ginny to laugh. This, in turn, caused Harry to moan in a very different way and soon they were kissing, Ginny lying on top of Harry, Her head resting on his shoulder, her hand idly playing with her folds.

 

They stayed joined at the waist for a long time, both catching their breaths, kissing and occasionally laughing as Harry ran his hands lightly up and down Ginny, while she stared contentedly up at the ceiling.

 

Harry suddenly tensed underneath her, his abs pushing into her back, “Oh no, your meeting!”

 

Ginny thought for a moment, then relaxed back into her husband, “Bugger it, there's no place I'd rather be.”

 

***

 

Later that night, after several cleaning spells and a long bath together, Ginny and Harry sat at the table with their seven wonderful children enjoying dinner together. The serenity of their parents seemed to have infected the children, and none of the usual squabbles tested the peace of the house that night as they listened attentively to what everyone had done that day.

 

Ginny was in paradise, she leaned into Harry's arms and savoured the moment. At times like these, she was tempted to try for another child; it would be wonderful to have another baby around the house.

 

She sighed contentedly. Seven, seven was enough for anyone.

 

***

 

Late that night Ginny was roused from pleasant dreams by a sharp rapping on the bedroom window, blearily she looked up to see the familiar sight of a Malfoy owl, holding another letter.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Bindings

“Alright you lot, listen up!” barked Auror Captain Ronald Weasley as he strode into the room. The crowd of Auror's quieted at once, some of the younger ones reflexively snapping to attention. Ron made his way up to the front of the room; a folder tucked neatly under his arm.

 

“Williamson has come through for us on the Colzanski case. We now know the location of their main base of operation's,” He slapped the folder down on the desk, “Familiarise yourself with the layout over the next thirty minutes then suit up. I want Proudfoot and his team on Portkey and Apparition wards, Graves and his bunch in the air, and teams Potter and Roche on breach.

 

“What about me sir?” asked Williamson.

 

“You? Hit the showers and smarten yourself up, you're taking the papers for this one. Damn fine work too,” Turning to the rest of the room he raised his voice, “I want this to be a nice clean run, so don't mess up Williamson's headline, got it?”

 

The Auror's began to gather around the blueprints, talking over the plan in hushed voices.

 

“Oh and Senior Auror Potter, you're taking rookie Fontaine with you.”

 

“Right you are, Auror Captain Ronald Weasley,” replied Harry with a formal salute that was somewhat undermined by the cheeky grin on his face.

 

Ron rolled his eyes at his old friend, not managing to keep a grin off his face.

 

***

 

Juliet Fontaine tried to stop her hands from shaking. It wasn't the fact that her first real field operation was about to start that had her trembling, no it was that fact that some cruel god had thrown her into Harry Potter's team.

 

Harry Potter, the freakin' boy who lived!

 

She'd grown up hearing stories about him. About how he'd rescued the fabled Philosophers stone in his first year, battled an ancient basilisk that could kill with a single glance, fought off a hundred Dementors, outflown a dragon, duelled the worst dark wizard Britain had ever seen at the tender age of fourteen and survived... the list of incredible, impossible feet's just went on and on.

 

How was she ever going to impress him?

 

“You all right there?” asked the man in question, his green eyes intent on her.

 

She nearly jumped out of her skin, “What?” she yelped, “yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking, Mr Potter.”

 

He smiled a crooked smile at her, his eyes twinkling, “Please, just call me Harry, anytime I hear 'Mr. Potter' I start looking for Minerva over my shoulder.”

 

Minerva? Minerva McGonagall? Of course, he was on first name basis with the Headmistress of Hogwarts.

 

“Come on; I'll introduce you to the rest of the team while we get ready. Today you're sticking near me. All I need you to do is shield my back. Anything more is just a bonus, so don't freak out if you can help it.”

***

Astoria Malfoy decided that she quite liked ordering Draco around. It pleased something deep inside her, something that Draco certainly couldn't ever reach. She realised that she kind of liked that Draco was a bit pathetic. Especially now that she was in control. It excited her. Well, that and the wand that was vibrating like mad as she pressed the side of it into her delicate clit.

 

Sighing slightly, she drew her wand away and checked her temperature for the signs and smiled. It was time.

 

“Oh Draco, dear. Come in her please,” she called.

 

Draco, naked as the day he was born, wandless and seething stomped into what was once his fathers study.

 

“Draco dear, so good to see you again, If I didn't know better I'd say you've been avoiding me,” She smiled as Draco tensed in front of her, clearly expecting some kind of punishment, “It's time. I'm at peek fertility for the next half an hour. As I'm sure you're aware by now, I believe it would help preserve the Malfoy line if you got Hard and fucked me nice and gentle, just the way I like it.”

 

She could tell the exact moment the magic took hold of Draco. Begrudgingly he stepped towards her, his flaccid penis jingling between his pale legs. Astoria got off Lucius' old chair and sat on his old desk, her legs spread, waiting for Draco.

 

“Hurry up dear; I'd hate to think you weren't eager to please your mistress, you are aren't you?”

She had to give him some credit; he still fought the magic for as long as he could, ever time. Finally, it became too much, and he growled out the words, “Of course... Mistress. I am eager to please.”

 

“Get that little cock nice and hard for me then Draco” she ordered.

 

Against his will, Draco's cock started to harden. She could see that it was causing him pain as, “What's the matter, Draco dearest?” asked Astoria, her voice a cruel mockery of his mother's concerned voice.

 

“It hurts... mistress,” he gasped.

 

Astoria frowned. Could he still manage it if he was in pain? She leaned back into the desk, and stuck her leg out in front of her, “Stay still for me, Draco,” she commanded. She pushed her big toe into the underside of her husbands prick, and Draco sucked in a breath and winced.

 

Astoria spread her pretty toes and slid Draco's rather thin manhood in between her big toe and its neighbour and slowly pumped up and down. Draco let out a sob but couldn’t pull away.

 

This was no good. Causing Draco discomfort was one thing, but this was clearly an unintended side effect. Something she didn't control. Astoria liked control.

 

“Well Draco, you can relax, let your sensitive pride deflate,” she instructed, curiously still pumping his cock up and down with her foot as his prick started to reduce between her toes.

 

She idly toyed with his flaccid cock for a moment, she squeezed it between her toes, pushed it with her heel into his body and flicked his sack back and forth, her mind deep in thought.

She returned to the present only to realise that she'd been swinging her leg up and down, kicking 'gently' into Draco's groin for the last couple of minutes. She decided that she rather liked the feel of his scrotum squished between her toes. Still, it would be unwise to do any more damage to his equipment.

 

“You may go Draco, I won't need you for the rest of the day I should think,” she said distractedly, her mind already turned to other things. She would need to write another letter.

***

“Here take this for the mission,” said Harry. He handed Juliet something fluid and silvery grey.

 

Juliet took hold of the gleaming folds reverently, “This isn't what I think it is, is it?” she asked, her voice higher than usual.

 

“What, oh yeah that's the Invisibility Cloak alright. I won't need it today as it's my job to be noticed. Keep it safe, and it will do the same for you.”

 

O’Brien walked over, and handed Harry and then Juliet wrist bands, “Oh, you're getting the cloak are you?”

 

Juliet just nodded.

 

O’Brien turned to Harry, “Everyone's ready, Harry. The wristbands are synced, and the apparition points clear,” He pulled out a notebook from his back pocket, “So has she been given her question yet?”

 

“No, I completely forgot,” said Harry, scratching the back of his head.

 

“Sure you did,” said O’Brien smiling, “well I'll let you do the honours. Weasley says we leave in five.”

 

“Right, thanks,” he turned to Juliet as O’Brien sauntered off, “Anyone who's suffered through the training programme gets one question about me that I try to answer as honestly as I can. Some things are off limits, but not much.”

 

“Why just one.”

 

Harry sighed, “You try being a walking, talking mystery in a room full of professional detectives. I figure if I give them a way to dig that I'm at least somewhat comfortable with then everyone is happier for it. Plus Ron, sorry, Auror Captain Ronald Weasley says it 'fosters a cooperative spirit amongst the department.' Talk to some of the vets, I know they've got a list of questions that haven't been asked yet. Just don't get too drawn into the conspiracy, okay.”

 

“O-okay,” stammered Juliet.

 

“We're cracking out in five, four, three, two, one!” yelled O’Brien. And as one the Auror's disapparated.

***

 

“Hugo Granger-Weasley, you get down from that tree right now!” commanded Hermione.

 

“Okay mum, you have to catch me though!” he yelled from the top of the biggest tree in the backyard and then leapt from the branches. His face went from confident to terrified as he rapidly approached the ground with no sign of rescue. He braced himself as he crashed into the ground, but instead of impacting hard into the bright green grass, he sank deep into the earth, like it was made of jelly.

 

“Accio my silliest child!” said Hermione and Hugo came zooming out of the earth, covered head to toe in mud.

 

His aunt, Ginny was bent over double, laughing so hard she couldn't breathe. His mum looked furious as she imperiously pointed her wand at him.

 

“Scurgify, Scurgify, Scurgify, Scurgify!” she cast the spell again and again until every trace of mud was gone, and his skin was left pink.

 

“Catch you indeed! It's bath time for you mister,” his mum said in the voice that not even dad would neigh-say.

 

“Yes mum,” he said dejectedly. He hurried into the house; really a bath wasn't too bad compared to mum yelling at him.

 

Ginny slowly caught her breath and wiped the tears from her eyes, “That's what you get for having Weasley twins,” she said, still deeply amused by her nephew's antics.

 

“Rose is never this much trouble,” said Hermione, as she fixed the Hugo sized hole in the ground.

 

“Oh she'll be as bad as you were, trust me. She just won't let you catch her at it.”

 

Hermione sighed, then smiled fondly, “I suppose you're right. Now, what did you want to talk about?”

 

The smiled faded from Ginny's face, “I think the spell is wearing off... at least on me. I'm not sure about Harry. Has Ron shown any signs of changing?”

 

Hermione paled ever so slightly, and unconsciously rubbed her midriff, “No nothing that I've noticed.”

 

“Well... well just keep an eye out in any case, please. I don't regret it, how could I, Hugo and Rose are so wonderful. I just... worry.”

 

“You wouldn't be Molly's daughter if you didn't. I'll check through the library just to be sure though,” said Hermione, her voice becoming determined as it always did whenever researching was mentioned.

 

“Thanks, I just can’t imagine what would happen if those two suddenly remembered.”

***

Harry Potter was, put simply, a demon. How on earth Juliet was supposed to watch his back, when he moved around so damn quickly, she didn't know. All she could do was try to keep up and watch as her team leader ploughed through opponent after opponent. Some of them saw the scare on his forehead and dropped their wands in awe but those who didn't fought on like animals. But it did little to help them. Harry Potter was just that good.

 

A green curse was hurled at his back, and Juliet froze in terror. As the bubbling green light flew through the air her wristband buzzed and Harry disappeared only to appear instantly behind his would-be killer, knocking him out cold.

 

He looked over at her, his eyes locking onto hers, despite the invisibility cloak she wore, “Grab his wand, and bind him uptight,” he commanded before he dashed off to help another Auror who was in the middle of a fierce duel.

 

Within five minutes of furious fighting, the whole place was on lockdown. Only two of the younger Auror's had suffered injury, and they were being tended to quickly, both of them lucid enough to complain about being hit.

 

Juliet felt her wristband buzz three times in quick succession, letting her know that the anti-Apparition wards were locking in place.

 

The tall form of the Auror Captain strode into the building, inspecting the damage, “How'd it go, Harry?”

 

“Like clockwork, boss,” he replied with a grin, “ouch!” he cried as Weasley shot what looked like a stinging hex at him.

 

“Call me boss one more time, and I'll be having words with Ginny!” threatened Ron, “Alright, will bring in the DMLE for clean up, take your team back for debrief.”

 

“You heard the man, let's go!” yelled Harry to his team.

***

“Here you go, H-Harry,” said Juliet, handing back the invisibility cloak, cursing herself for stammering.

 

“Thanks, we'll go over your performance in the pensive tomorrow afternoon, for now, I just want you to cool down and process what happened. It can be a shock to the system after training.”

 

Juliet only nodded, thinking back to when she froze. If it weren't for Harry's quick apparition, then he'd be dead on the ground.

 

“Hey,” asked Harry as he packed his bag, “Thought of a question yet?”

 

“Err yes actually. Whyaren'tyouinchargeImeanyou'retheHarryPotter!”

 

“Ha, I'll give you that one for free,” he said smiling, having no trouble discerning her babbling after years of knowing Hermione.

 

“Truth is, I could maybe run this place just as well as Ron does, but he'd suffer for it. I've known Ron longer than anyone else. I know his strengths, and I certainly know his weaknesses. When Ron isn't in charge, he's bloody near useless. But give him that responsibility, and he's a changed man.”

 

“He's also the best tactician I've ever worked with, in fact, every raid we do crosses he desk for review at least once. Plus he's always coming up with things to give us an edge. Those wristbands that we wear, that was his idea. You saw how I apparated away from that killing curse? Well, it was Ron's idea to set up a fluctuating ward and sync it to wristbands, now every ten seconds or so, we can pop around the place, and by the time the enemy realises, the wards are already back up. It's always funny when they splinch themselves trying to copy us, saves us a lot of trouble, believe me.”

 

“Part of being a leader is finding a place where everyone can be their best. It just so happens that Ron's best where he is right now. Plus being here allows me to refuse Kingsley every time he offers me the Head of the DMLE. Paperwork!” he shuddered theatrically.

***

“RRRAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRR!” roared James Potter as he chased his siblings around the house as Harry walked through the front door. Harry only just managed to divest himself of his work cloak when he was pounced on by his three girls, Lily, Dora and Luna.

 

“Daddy, save us from the monster!” wailed Lily

 

“I don't want to get my guts eated!” said Dora indignantly.

 

“You'll fight him, right daddy?” asked Luna.

 

Harry laughed and picked up Dora and gave her a sloppy kiss on the cheek, “Who says I'm not the monster? The kiss monster!”

 

“eeeeww!” cried Dora, while Luna and Lily clung to his legs.

 

James came stalking into the room, and Harry understood who the monster was. James, mischief alight in his eyes looked like he'd been hit with five or six partial transfigurations. His fingers were replaced with big blunt claws, and his head was adorned with a fine set of antlers. Tiny wings fluttered uselessly on his back, and his legs looked like something you'd expect on a Kangaroo.

 

“Hold on girls, I'll save you,” cried Harry gallantly and he flicked his wand at his eldest. In between, one step and the next James 'fell' upwards onto the ceiling, where he stayed as if gravity had reversed for him alone.

 

“Daaaaaaaaaaaaad!” he moaned, trying to jump back down to the floor, but falling upwards into the roof every time.

 

“That's what you get for taking on the-boy-who-flips! Come on girls; let's run away.”

 

Lily and Luna clung to their father's legs and stood on his shoes, while Dora manoeuvred herself so that she was riding piggyback, only kneeing Harry a couple of times as she did so.

 

Together they waddled around the house, their brother chasing them from the ceiling.

 

“Where are the terrors?” asked a slightly winded Harry, Auror training had nothing on having kids.

 

“Where else,” said Dora, “In their room!”

 

“Onwards!” cried Harry, staggering up the stairs, his daughters squealing with delight.

 

Harry yanked open the door to the three terrors room only to come face to face with an improvised catapult, loaded with goods from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.

 

“Fire!”Ariana commanded, and the boys complied.

 

Harry, Dora, Lily and Luna disappeared for a moment in a rainbow cloud of pranking supplies.

***

 

Ginny Potter dried herself off from her shower to find a pack of the strangest looking creatures, all enjoying ice cream together in the backyard.

 

She dressed and joined them quickly, happy to have Harry home again. She would have to pester Kingsley into offering Harry that safe DMLE job again.

 

As she joined them, she saw that Harry had sprouted a pair of ram horns and his arms were octopus tentacles, but he was still managing to eat his desert well enough.

 

She kissed her husband on the check and pulled one of her beloved monstrosities into her lap, “So what brought all this one?” she asked.

 

“We found,” said Lily between licks of her ice cream cone, “scratches on the kitchen table.”

 

“I think a monster did it,” said Ariana, “Like the ghoul at Grandma's.”

 

Ginny just looked wide-eyed at Harry, who was blushing furiously.

 

“Yep, must be a monster, but don't worry girls, I'll look after you.”

 

“Well we don't need looking after,” declared Fabian.

 

“Yeah, we'll prank any monster that dares enter our domain!” continued Gideon.

 

“It's domain, darling,” said Ginny gently.

 

“uhuh, domain,” he nodded.

 

“Right,” said Ginny, “What are we having for dinner?”

 

Eight different voices called out for eight wildly different things. Ginny just crossed her arms, “Okay, Brussels sprouts and broccoli it is!”

***

“Astoria you look a fright, come in dear, come in. Tell me what's wrong,” said Pansy Parkinson.

 

“The potion didn't work properly.” said Astoria dejectedly.

 

“Well, let's go over it again and check that you got everything just right. Can I offer you some wine?”

 

“Of course you may,” smiled Astoria as they walked deeper into Parkinson Manor, towards their private library.

 

Together they painstakingly went through every step, and not a few glasses of Elf-made wine. Pansy flipped through the book again and sighed.

 

“I can only imagine it has something to do with the donor. You're sure it was authentic?”

 

“Yes very sure, I made them an offer too good to pass up. I'd tell you but contracts and all,” said Astoria, draining her glass.

 

“Say no more dear; I know how you feel. It occurs to me that maybe you'd be better off if things stayed the way they are for a time.”

 

“But I want a family, Running the Malfoy family is gratifying in a way, but I need something more, something to bring life into that mausoleum of a mansion.”

 

“Well, I think you're best served to try again, provided you can get another sample.”

 

“Oh I can't see that being much of a problem,” replied Astoria, a wicked grin spreading across her face.

***

Ginny read the letter, her face getting hot. She reread the letter, her legs unconsciously beginning to rub together, she read the letter a third time and finally reached for a quill to reply. Astoria needed another sample. Just the thought of drawing it out of Harry was driving Ginny wild. The included pensive memory, which Astoria had so thoughtfully sent along, depicting Draco's impotence and painful foot-job only spurred her onwards.

 

As quickly as she dared she raced down to the lounge room and floo called Andi. Within twenty minutes she was kissing her children as she sent them off for a sleepover with Teddy.

 

Soon it was just her and Harry in the house. Her mind was racing with dirty thoughts, each one pushing into the next driving her wild. What should she do, what should she indulge?

 

She waited while Harry finished showering and by the time he exited the steamy room, face still buried in a towel, Ginny Potter had made up her mind.

 

“Harry,” she purred, “I sent the children off to Andi for the night.” She ran her hand over his bare chest, still hot from the shower. Harry gave her a wide-eyed look and gulped, “You did, did you.”

 

She smiled to herself. It was so wonderful to have a partner who could bend her over the kitchen table one night, calling her a bad girl and dominating her exquisitely, and be like a blushing teenager the next. She knew he could sense her mood; she was the predator, he was the prey.

 

“I did,” she lent in and kissed his pectoral, biting it as she pulled back. Harry groaned and leaned back into the wall. Ginny reached up and placed a hand on the back of his neck, running her fingers through his hair. Her other hand snaked down and caressed his cock while she stared deeply into his green eyes.

 

“Do you mind if we try something different?” Ginny asked lightly, just as her hand wrapped itself around the base of his hardening cock.

 

Harry groaned again, “I'm yours.”

 

“Do you trust me?”

 

“Always.”

 

She turned and pulled him along with her, her small hand around his engorging manhood.

 

They arrived in her study, and she motioned for him to sit in her chair. She vanished the armrests and raised the back of the chair slightly for his taller, broader frame. He looked up at her from his seat, worry and trust warring in his eyes.

 

She waved her wand back and forth, and a stream of red satin floated out from the tip. It wrapped around Harry, tying his hands to his sides and his back and feet to the chair. He was bound completely to the chair. Ginny leant forward and kissed him possessively.

 

“Just tell me to stop, and we'll stop,” she said softly.

 

“Never,” he whispered back, his voice breathy and excited. She could feel his muscles tense and relax under her fingers. Slowly, luxuriously she ran her delicate fingers all over his body, exalting in his moans and shudders.

 

Finally, after teasing him for an age, she ran her fingers up along his thighs and ghosted them along the pulsing shaft of his cock. The tip was already weeping a clear stream of pre-cum, dribbling like honey down the underside of his impressive length.

 

She waved her wand again, and a ring appeared around the base of Harry's cock. His balls and phallus on one side and his hard Auror's body on the other.

 

He gasped as the cool metal constricted around him. Ginny meanwhile had her eyes closed and her wand raised, and soon a potion vial came whizzing into the room and slapped into her hand. Slowly, never looking away from Harry, she dipped a finger into her weeping sex, then scooped up a healthy dollop of his pre-cum then let it drip into the green contents of the flask.

 

The potion began to smoke and turned a shade of deepest red. Ginny leant forward and kissed her Harry again, hard on the lips. Then she fed him the potion. He drank it down, their eyes locked on each other.

 

“Thank you, Harry, thank you for trusting me.” she whispered into his ear.

 

Harry started to growl. Then he began to strain, the muscles of his body bulging as he began to trust uncontrollable. And his cock, oh his cock, thought Ginny, it was so huge it looked like it was about to tear itself apart.

 

Thick veins bulged around the shaft, and it pulsed in time with his heartbeat. The head was a beautiful dark purple, and he was almost squirting out globs and globs of thick pre-cum.

 

Ginny conjured a bowl between Harry's legs to catch everything he was pumping out, the thought of what it would be used for, driving her as wild as the straining form of Harry James Potter was.

 

She straddled Harry and sat on the topside of his throbbing cock, forcing a groan out of his clenched jaw, “Harry,” she said softly, “I'm going to drive you crazy tonight. I've given you the strongest lust potion I could find and keyed it to us. I've wrapped that glorious work of art you call a cock in a ring that won't let you cum until you're ready to shoot every-last-drop deep into me. When you finally cum, and it could take hours, when you finally burst you're going to cum so deep in me, I'll feel it in my throat. Do you like that, Harry, do you want to fuck me Harry?” she teased.

 

Harry just let out a howl of maddened desire, the veins in his neck bulging as he struggled to impale the teasing little minx, his potion addled brain now only recognised as a fertile woman.

 

Ginny smiled and dragged herself backwards, her clothed groin travelling along the length of Harry's cock and stood up and slowly, tortuously stripped. Facing away from him, she bent over and played with her folds. She could practically feel Harry's gaze on her sex, making her drip all over her toying fingers and thighs.

 

“Do you want this, Harry?” she asked innocently, “Do you want that big awful cock in this tiny little hole? It's just for you, you know. No one else gets to have it, just you, my Harry, My bull!”

 

She shuffled back, her boiling cunt so close that a deep part of Harry could feel the heat on the tip of his cock. He thrust helplessly forward, bound as he was, his whole being bent on impaling himself in that hole. His cock seised up, and a great spurt of clear pre-cum shot from his tip and splattered against his wife's pink folds. For one perfect moment, they were connected by a glittering stream of Harry's lust before it dipped and broke, falling to the bowl below.

 

Ginny pushed back slightly and 'kissed' Harry's tip with her lips, the feel of his straining cock sending tingles deep into her body. She'd waited long enough. Her bull needed milking.

 

Quickly she turned to face Harry and straddled his lap, rising high and notching his deep purple glans into her weeping pink flower. She held there for a moment, rubbing her clit as Harry struggled beneath her.

 

This time Ginny took her time, slowly, she bent her knees, and her lips stretched and bulged around Harry's broad tip. She let out a breath as the flared ridge finally popped inside and her labia constricted gratefully around the slightly narrower shaft. Ginny let out a breath. The potion had swollen Harry's already impressive endowment to almost ridiculous portions. Still, there was no turning back now, if she didn't find a way to relieve the pressure, she wasn't sure the restraints would hold, and Harry would ravage her like a beast in heat. This was not a thought that bothered her much, but she'd like to be able to fly without wincing for the next month.

 

Gradually she pumped her small body down, two inches forward, one back, breath. She squeezed him and pushed him around as she tilted her hips back and forth and always she sort to take more and more of his cock into her body.

 

Gasping for breath, she was down to the final inch left outside of her. She already felt like his cock was up near her lungs! But she craved that moment of contact. She could practically feel her clit reaching out, desperate to rub against Harry's groin. If she could just make it, just squeeze that last 'little' bit of him inside, she'd be complete.

 

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and pushed herself down onto him. Finally, finally, her bright pink clit made contact with Harry's skin, and she dragged it down to the base of his cock. Ginny was full of her man, covered in sweat and breathless while her clit was pressed hard against Harry’s near burning skin. It set her off, and her walls began to quiver as a huge orgasm overtook her. Her bent knees started to shake back and forth, and her feet slipped off the side of the chair, her whole body weight pushing her down even further onto Harry's canon like cock.

 

Ginny was a shaking, seising mess as she came. Her arms were thrown limply around Harry's neck and she pressed her hard nipples into Harry's chest, and she howled unrestrainedly as she became a creature of pure bliss, the pleasure so intense it was painful.

 

Time passed, and Ginny realised she was sobbing, while her teeth were pressed into someone's chest. She let the moment consume her, the sense of total release draining the strength from her limp limbs. The pillar of meat inside of her was the only thing keeping her in place.

 

Harry was still futilely thrust against his restraints, his animal mind desiring nothing more than to seed the cunt wrapped around his cock. Finally, the sobbing creature that clung to him look up at him, it drew his head forward and smashed its lips against his and ground itself against him, rutting against him.

 

It was chanting something as it's main of fire red hair trailed behind it. A memory hidden deep within him understood the words, told him they would please him. He frowned but did not stop struggling. Suddenly the words made sense to him.

 

“Oh my bull, my stallion, please, cum in me, fill me up, seed me, please. You have you give me everything. I can take it I promise.

 

The words pleased him, but he could do nothing, only let the creature of lust and fire ride him to where it led.

 

“Oh let me milk you, my bull my Harry, please, I need it, let me squeeze it out of you, pump it into me please, my bull, I need it, so deep, coat me, stain me, claim me.

 

And again the creature was shuddering pleasantly on top of him. He growled out his pleasure, and goosebumps erupted all over the creatures creamy pale flesh. He could feel a terrible pressure building between his legs, the only thing holding him together was the clutching walls of the creature's insides.

 

“Oh I can feel you, the veins of your cock are rubbing my walls, you're sooo hard, sooo big, please, my bull, my darling, give me everything, please, cum for me, push it all into me. Aren't those big balls heavy, my poor bull needs me to drain them doesn't he, needs to seed me, make me yours?"

 

The pressure built and he started to pulse, but something was stopping him. He looked down at their junction; her pale flesh gave way to taught red lips as she sheathed his length to the base again and again. There! As she raised up he could see it, something shiny wrapped around him, something stopping him from claiming what was his.

 

He howled and strained against his bonds, the power of his body contesting the trap he was stuck in. He needed to escape, needed to breed his mare, needed to cum!

 

“Oh Harry, my stallion, I can feel you swelling, I can feel you everywhere, my poor little cunny, it needs your cum so so so bad, please fill me, I want to feel you pulsing inside of me, fuck me!”

 

Harry strained, he needed to be free, he was a wild animal, these restraints were an abomination, keeping him from his purpose. With a roar of triumph, he finally broke free and stood up.

 

The creatures fell backwards, and it's legs wrapping around his back. His large hands finally took hold of the creature's waist and held it in place; as its shoulders dangled back down to earth. He looked down and saw the outline of his bulging cock deep inside the small creature he was about to claim.

 

With inhuman strength, he pulled his endless length from the creatures folds, watching it shudder helplessly in his hands, and once the ridge of his glans was just visible beneath the strained skin of the creatures helpless cunt, he buried himself to the root again.

 

The creature howled, and he roared his victory. Again he drew himself from the depths of the flailing creature only to sheath himself completely in it. His arms bulged with the strain of it, his chest was red with the effort but all ways subservient to the need of his cock.

 

He could feel it, one last time and he would complete the purpose he was designed for, as the creature with hair of fire chanted below him.

 

He pulled out once more and took a deep breath in, his broad, sweat-soaked chest expanding, and then he impaled the creature one last time.

 

His roar shook the walls, shook the house, shook the earth and his body turned to rigid quivering stone, he breath shot from his body, his heart seemed to stop, all there was, all there would ever be was his cock and the agony of flesh and pleasure that surrounded it from root to tip.

 

Ginny's upper body dangled from where Harry was holding her, as he ravaged her like a beast. He sheathed himself again and again and again in her eager, wrecked pussy, forcing the copious fluids of her tunnel to spray out from her lips and soak his thrusting groin.

 

And then the metal band around his cock shattered as his cock leapt inside of her, cum surging from his all-consuming cock. Jet after jet was pumped into her, his balls pressing against her ass as they delivered their copious bounty.

 

Her hands reached to her midriff where she could feel the river of cum start to swell her insides. Beyond her swelling womb, she could see Harry, transfixed by the moment. With a force of will, she drew herself up, feeling the gallons of cum slosh about inside her. Ginny tiredly wrapped her hands around Harry's neck and let him empty himself utterly insider of her.

 

It was perfect. She looked down at her belly, and she smiled at herself, it looked like she was months into her fourth pregnancy. Harry had, or was rather, pumping inhuman amounts of potent seed into her. Finally, Harry collapsed back onto the chair, breathing hard, and together they lost consciousness, wrapped in each other, Ginny's bloated cum belly pushed against Harry’s abs, their hair a mess, their limbs a tangle, their faces serene and smiling.

***

Ginny roused herself a short time later, her sex aflame. She looked down at her belly and contracted involuntarily against the half hard cock buried inside of her. Her bull had pumped her so full of his precious cum, and she loved him so much.

 

Gingerly she pulled her weary lips off Harry cock. As he finally fell out of her, his weighty meat slapped down heavily on the chair, and Harry grunted in his sleep.

 

Ginny squatted over the ball and began to rub her swollen belly with on hand and play with her clit with the other. She leant forward and opened her mouth, running her tongue along the cum stained cock of her wonderful husband. She rubbed her belly as it slowly contracted and methodically cleaned Harry's cock, licking up the delicious cum. His seed started to fall out of her gaping hole and collect in the bowl below, it was so thick, almost like cooling toffee, if this didn't help Astoria, nothing would.

***

Ron walked with whisky and glasses in hand, to the table in the recently renovated Hogshead. Aberforth, sick of questions about his brother, had taken the family fortune and gone to see the world, flipping the proverbial bird to pure-blood culture one last time by selling the establishment to three enterprising and free Elves.

 

The place had never been so clean, and the service was unrivalled in all of magical Britain. The opening night, found a drunk, joyful and completely tanked Hermione celebrating the fruits of her long fight for Elf rights. Ever since, it had become a favourite of Ron and Harry.

 

The duo sat drinking and chatting about their children, having long ago declared the Hogshead a 'work-free zone.' They talked with the locals, asked after the town and even told a story or two about their more innocent times at school. Broody teenagers, they were no longer.

 

As they headed towards the end of the bottle Harry finally brought up something that had been worrying him lately, “Ron, feel free to shut me up at any point, but can I ask... discuss... errr... sex life?” he ended awkwardly.

 

Ron just blinked at him.

 

“It's just I need to check something with you, and I know it's your sister, but then Hermione's like a sister to me too,” he added quickly.

 

Ron frowned and seemed to be thinking. Finally, he downed his glass and leaned back in his chair, “Huh, well I'll be jiggered, I don't actually think it bothers me, ask away. I reserve the right to request Obliviation afterwards, however,”

 

Harry grinned and raised his glass to his oldest friend, “It's just that we... Ginny and I... Merlin how do I say this... we um-”

 

“You're getting kinky aren't you,” Ron said flatly.

 

Harry dropped his shot glass, and it went clattering over the wooden table. An elf appeared a second later, clicked his fingers and replaced the glass with a new one and cleaned the table before vanishing to who knows where.

 

“How'd you guess?”

 

“How else, Hermione's getting that way too. When we first started... well she was, hmmm... proper, that's the word, proper.”

 

“And now?”

 

“Now we're getting into some... stranger things I guess. It's weird though, see it doesn't really bother either of us. I'm suddenly happy doing things I never thought I'd be into, but for some reason, when it's with her, I'm all for it, you know?”

 

They lapsed into silence before Harry poured himself another shot, “I always figured it would get less exciting not wilder and wilder. Recently I get home and... well I guess you don't want to know but let's just say it's not cooling down and leave it that.”

 

“Does it bother you?”

 

“...No, it doesn't. But the fact that it doesn't bother me; bothers me.”

 

“Well there's only one thing for it,” mused Ron, “Pour another shot, knock it back and hope to Merlin we survive. Cheers!”

***

“Draco, dinner time,” Astoria called out. She moved to sit at the long table in the austere dining hall and waited, a smile lifting the corners of her pert lips. Draco dutifully appeared, still naked, still without his wand, a book clutched in front of his genitals. She could see the confusion on his face when he noticed that the table was empty of food or even place settings.

 

“What's for dinner... Mistress?” he asked sullenly.

 

“Why your favourite, Draco,” and she lifted up a large bottle, one that Draco had hoped never to see again. “I figured it certainly got you up and ready last time you tasted it, so if I cannot force you to do your duty, I can still force you to drink this.”

 

“Please,” Draco begged, his voice ragged, “don't make me mistress.”

 

“hmmm, that all depends on your behaviour,” Astoria purred, running a finger meaningfully along the length of the bottle.

 

Astoria then led her husband to the smallest greeting hall and motioned him to lie down on the backless chaise lounge that was the perfect hight for what she had planned.

 

“Last time we tried this, I was perfectly willing to do the groundwork and make you do as little as possible, and even then you couldn't get it up for me. So this time I'll need you to warm me up, so on your back please darling.”

 

Draco dutifully lay on his back, clearly not willing to risk another dose from the bottle that Astoria carried with her.

 

“No no no, that won't do at all Draco, slide down the couch until you're staring up at the ceiling,” instructed Astoria. Truly, bossing Draco around was making everything tingly. Adding to that, the fact that Draco simply hated what she was about to do to him and she was quickly working herself up.

 

She placed the heavy bottle on the nearby coffee table with a bang, making Draco flinch away from it. Then she cut away at her frightfully expensive dress until she was clad in nothing but the corset that made up the top part of the dress, her heels and her panties. She vanished those too, revealing her delicate lips to the light of the warm candles that lit the room.

 

Without further comment, she took hold of the back rise of the chaise lounge like she was pushing a trolley and straddled Draco's face, “Now Draco, I want you to use that tongue for something useful for a once and lick my twat until it's so polished you can see your face in it. If you do a good enough job, I won't make you drain this bottle. You may begin.”

Draco's tongue gingerly slid out from between his thin lips and begun to lap the length of her slit. Astoria let this go on for a moment before lifting off her useless husband and glaring down at him.

 

“Draco, my vagina is not a bowl of water, and you are not a Crup. Do it right, or I’ll make you.”

 

Astoria lowered herself down again, but Draco did little better. His reluctant efforts were making Astoria feel ugly, as if her body wasn’t one of the most sort after in the pure-blood world. Well if Draco weren't going to provide, Astoria would bleed her own pleasure from her stone of a partner.

 

“urgh, Draco, act like a Crup, and I’ll treat you like one. Mother always used to rub the bad dogs face in their messes,” Astoria sighed and picked up her wand. She aimed it carefully at her sex and concentrated. The soft flesh of her mound began to enlarge around her sex, and her labia burst forth like a flower in bloom. The entire area grew so large that it pressed pleasantly into her thighs. Her previously delicate petals were now heavy as they too grew larger and larger.

 

Then she began to rub her swollen sex against Draco’s face, flicking her inflated clit repeatedly over his nose, “You just focus on getting that prick of yours nice and hard for me Draco, your darling wife will take care of the rest.”

 

She could tell Draco hated it, and that made Astoria love it all the more. Her magic bloated sex left huge trails of grool over Draco’s squirming face. Astoria looked over her shoulder and snorted in a most unladylike fashion to see Draco’s cock still flaccid.

 

Then she had an idea, a wicked, dirty thought. Stopping her face rutting she took a tiny step forward and grabbed her pert ass, “Draco I want you to lick my ass hole, I want you to pleasure it, I want you to snog my ass as hard as you can. If you please me, I’ll give you back your wand!”

 

She lowered herself down again, holding herself wide open. She looked down between the valley of her breasts to see Draco’s face, mostly obscured by her magically enhance lips. She could see the disgust in his eyes and then as made eye contact; his tongue made contact with her puckered hole.

 

She shrieked, and her sensitive hole flinched away from his hot tongue, “Again Draco, again!”

 

Her tight ring clenched and fluttered as his tongue reluctantly explored her. She was so sensitive she swore she could feel the individual taste buds on Draco’s tongue.

 

“Oh, Draco, get used to this because you’re going to be spending a lot of time with you tongue swirling around that tight little hole,” she let out another groan as Draco’s tongue travelled over the wrinkled folds, and she clenched away again, the experience too intense.

 

“Inside Draco, Inside!” she cried and ground down her weeping cunt lips on his face.

 

His tongue found the centre of her ring and began to force it open. Astoria’s breath quickened, and she pushed her self down harder on her husbands face, forcing his head deep into the cushion of the lounge. And then it happened, his probing tongue slipped inside, and her hole involuntary spasmed, squeezing the invading tongue hard.

 

As it pushed into her ass hole, Astoria could feel the slick length press against the delicate wall between her sex and the filthy place Draco was servicing. Draco began to swirl his tongue around; clearly, hell bent on avoiding another bottle feeding. She could see his eyes shut tight, probably imagining he was anywhere else.

 

“Just a little bit more, D-Draco,” Astoria panted, and took her hands of the rise of the couch and grabbed Draco’s head and pulled it with all her strength into her groin while she continued to grind her inflated cunt lips on his face as his tongue danced inside her quivering ass hole.

 

It was too much, and Astoria came hard. Harder than she ever had while being poked by Draco’s prick. Her legs gave out, and she happily collapsed onto the squirming form of her husband, and she revelled in the blissful, powerful moment.

 

Astoria finally caught her breath and wiped away the light sheen of sweat that had appeared on her face. As she raised off of Draco slightly, he did need to breathe, after all, she looked back at his prick hoping that it would be ready only to be disappointed yet again.

 

Draco’s cock showed no signs of rising to the occasion. Well, thought Astoria, If you want something done right…

 

“Oh dear, Draco my love, it appears you haven’t held up your end of the bargain. I guess I’ll just have to feed you another helping.”

 

Draco let out a whimper beneath her.

 

Astoria rose up and took hold of the bottle, “Remind me again what this is, Draco.”

 

After a long moment of silence, Draco finally said in a quiet voice, “It’s cum.”

 

“Oh that’s right, but dear me, I’m ever so forgetful; whose is it?”

 

“It’s… it’s Potter’s!” he snapped, looking anywhere but at her and the bottle, she held to her chest.

 

“Potter… Potter,” Astoria said as if she couldn't place the name, “Trouble is, there are rather a lot of Potter’s these days. Which one is it?”

 

“HARRY FUCKING POTTER OKAY!” yelled Draco hoarsely.

 

“Poor Draco, suck a naughty Crup. I think a bit of discipline is in order, and I just had the perfect idea how to do it.”

 

She drew out her wand and with a few precise movements she coaxed the absurdly thick Potter-cum out of the bottle where it floated, undulating in the air before her. Then smirking to herself, she shaped the gelatinous mass into a thin band that snaked through the air towards her.

 

Draco meanwhile had his eyes shut tight and had rolled away from Astoria. He heard his wife gasp and resisted the impulse to look, no doubt it was just another torment.

 

“Draco dear, I have decided that I won't make you drink from the bottle tonight, alright? Instead, I want one more orgasm, and then you’re free for the rest of the night.”

Draco couldn't believe his luck; he turned around quickly to see his wife, her genitals returned to their natural, delicate form about to step over him. She lowered her winking hole over his face and he grit his teeth, if it meant not having to EVER endure THAT again, he would eat every meal for the rest of his life out of his bitch of a wife’s ass.

 

Astoria changed things up this time by facing Draco’s privates as he lay supine on the lounge. Something was off about her, but before he could puzzle it out, his vision was completely obscured by his wife’s pert backside and that awful, demanding hole he was about to service again.

 

“One last thing before you start, Draco. I think it would be best for the line if you swallowed anything that happened to come out.”

 

Draco began to dry heave, she wasn’t seriously going to defecate on him... was she?

 

“Oh relax Draco, I took care of that while you were sulking, remember I still have to kiss that face of yours when this is all over, now get to work!”

 

With everything to gain and so much to lose, Draco dived in tongue first. If he could just placate her for another day he was sure he could find a way out of this hell. Then she would pay, she would pay with every last shred of her deviant soul.

 

He began with slow, sensuous flicks of his tongue, skirting around the edge of his target. Each time he did that, Astoria would convulse, drawing the tight ring up and away from his open mouth. Then he whipped out with his tongue and ran it over her hole, sending another, larger shock through her body. He began to circle her tight opening, drawing ever nearer until the tip of his tongue found her centre and then he pushed, his tongue writhing like a snake as it tried to burrow into her ass.

 

Astoria tensed, then relaxed and Draco was in! If his mouth weren't so busy, he would have smirked. Despite being forced into this, he was still a Malfoy, and Malfoy’s didn’t do anything less than perfect.

 

“Oh deeper Draco, I want you to find the surprise I have for you!” cried Astoria as she moaned in ecstasy. Draco could tell she was rubbing her belly, by the way, her arms we moving. He was furious; he was incensed. She had promised that she wouldn’t do that to him.

 

Then a taste that haunted his nightmares met his tongue.

 

“Oh Draco you found it, remember to drink it all down!” commanded Astoria as she panted on top of him.

 

Small globs of thick white fluid were being squeezed out of Astoria’s ass, trailing slowly down Draco’s tongue into his open mouth. She was full of potter’s cum. She’d tricked him!

 

“Drink it all down!” Astoria moaned again, and her hands pressed down on her swollen guts, bloated from the cum she’d hidden in them. She started to push it out, squirting heavy, honey-like strings straight into Draco’s mouth.

 

The magic of the marriage contract forced him to swallow every last drop. Tears ran down Draco’s narrow face, as his tongue, as if with a mind of its own, scooped more and more of Harry Potter’s warm cum out of his wife’s ass.

 

“Open wide Draco,” Astoria commanded, as she pushed down on Draco’s mouth, creating a seal. She took a deep breath and tensed, forced a long, powerful stream of cum out of her now gaping ass hole. She could feel Draco’s cheeks swell against her thighs as his mouth was filled to the brim. She waited, quivering on top of him until she felt him start to swallow again and again, desperate to clear his mouth of his rivals cum.

 

It was enough to make Astoria peek again, and the cries of her joy could be heard all throughout the house. She’d deliberately avoided stimulating her demanding clit at all and her discipline paid off. It was like her entire spine was orgasming, and her whole body began to shake violently.

 

And still, Draco was forced to dig for more.

 

Eventually, her bliss started to fade, though it left her warm and limber. She opened her eyes, not realising that she’d closed them so see Draco’s cock, hard as a rock in front of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think. I am open to suggestions going forward.
> 
> Completed a gramma and spelling pass.


	3. Dinner and Desert

CRACK!

 

“Master Master!” cried Kreacher in his croaky voice as he appeared at the Potter's, his eyes wild, his bat like ears quivering and his gnarled hands wringing.

 

Harry Potter jumped out of his seat in the study, drawing his wand in one smooth motion, “Kreacher, what is it?” he demanded. his own heart beginning to leap in his chest.

 

“Emergency, Master, at Young Master's house!” wailed the elf, his bloodshot eyes tearing up, “Kreacher cannot stand the horror!”

 

Harry sprung into action. With the wave of his wand, his trusty Auror cloak sailed from its place on the hook and draped itself over Harry's running form. Harry slid down the railing of the stairs and dashed into the sitting room.

 

Another wave of his wand and the pot of Floo Powder jumped off the mantelpiece, before being banished into the low embers of the fire. The ceramic shattered and a blaze of green fire roared forth as Harry yelled, “Andi's place!” before diving head first into the flames.

 

Harry spun through the Floo system, his mind replaying old horrors from the war, he kept coming back to the slash of blood on the wall when he and Albus had gone in search of Slughorn. He prayed that this too was somehow a false alarm.

 

He tucked into a well-practiced roll as he was jettisoned from the flames and was on his feet in seconds, his wand arm straight out in front of him, ready for anything.

 

What he found left him speechless.

 

The room was completely fine, if empty. No upturned furniture, no signs of spell fire, and thankfully, no blood. However, you didn't make it to Senior Auror by just accepting the obvious. Kreacher had been in too much distress to give him all the details, so it was likely that someone had stunned Andromeda and then Teddy, who was yet to get his own wand, would be defenseless.

 

Room by empty room, Harry methodically swept the house, moving on magically silenced boots. He was just making his way down the long hall that divided the house when the sound of someone faintly weeping came from Teddy's bedroom. His blood froze in his veins, but his hand just gripped his wand tighter, his knuckles whitening with the strain.

 

He prowled along the hall, wand out before him, preparing himself for the worst. He pushed open the door to Teddy's room and found the room empty.

 

“ _Hominum Revelio_ ”

 

There was someone under the bed! With a few lightning quick jabs of his wand, Teddy's bed shrunk to the size of a matchbox, revealing a weeping, terrorised... _goblin_?

 

“Uncle Harry!” balled the strange creature as it scrambled towards the Auror.

 

Harry was frozen in shock, unable to make himself move even when he was hugged by the diminutive form. It pressed its snout-like nose into his stomach and its bat ears quivered.

 

Harry let out a faint gurgling sound, while his brain tried to make sense of things.

 

“...Teddy?” he finally asked the distraught creature.

 

“It won't change back,” Teddy wailed, clinging harder to his uncle.

 

Harry let out a groan and buried his head in his free hand, trying to fight off the headache this whole mess was bring on, “Kreacher!”

 

Kreacher popped in, “Oh poor Young Master,” the elf moaned.

 

“ _This_ was the emergency, Kreacher?” demanded Harry, motioning to his godson.

 

“A ward of the house of Black forced to look like a house elf!” cried the elf, “The shame of it, the shame... poor Young Master, Kreacher tried to fix it but could do nothing, Kreacher has FAILED!”

 

Harry resisted the urge to strangle the old elf before picking up his godson and carrying him out into the hall, “Merlin Teddy, you're getting heavy, soon I'll have to get Hagrid over just to move you about,” he teased, trying to distract the boy.

 

He carried Teddy to Andi's sitting room, where he gratefully put him down. Harry knelt down so he was eye level with Teddy and put his hands on the boys shaking shoulders, “Teddy, I promise you, you're not stuck like this. When I met her, your mum could change into all sorts of weird and amazing things. She used to make your Aunties cry with laughter at dinner with all the things she could do.”

 

Teddy wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and looked at his Godfather, “I b-bet she never g-got s-s-stuck like this,” he said, his lip trembling.

 

“I bet she got stuck loads of times, your mum, bless her purple hair, was as clumsy as they come. If she were here, I know she'd tell you, all it takes is practice. Now I think we've all got a bit worked up over this, so how about we go flying, bat ears and all?”

 

Teddy's misery evaporated in a way that only the young and innocent could manage, his eyes shifting back from the blood-shot watery gray, to his natural dark twinkling eyes that he assumed whenever he was thinking about his mother. But then he wavered back.

 

“What if James laughs at me?” he asked fearfully.

 

“Then just ask him who left footprints on the ceiling. Trust me. Now take the Floo to my place and I'll leave a note for Nana and have a word with our excitable elf.”

 

Teddy nodded and stepped through the fireplace, as Harry turned and called, “Kreacher!”

 

The hunchbacked elf popped into the room with a resounding crack, “Master calls Kreacher?” he asked with a low bow.

 

“Kreacher you damn near scared the life out of me, next time something like this happens I want a full detailed and _calm_ report, is that understood?”

 

“Of course Master, Kreacher shall punish himself most severely for upsetting Master.” Said the elf, so bent over that his nose was pressing into the wooden floor.

 

“And have Hermione after my blood? No thank you,” replied Harry with a shudder, “instead you can cook dinner for my family and our guests tonight... and place the good silver... for the kids.”

 

“Not Mistress's fine silver!” wailed the elf, despondently.

 

That would serve the little bugger for freaking him out, thought Harry.

***

Ginny Potter returned home to find the backyard full of children on brooms. The three girls were hovering close to the ground, still on their training brooms, while James was chased through the air by Harry, with Teddy sitting before him on his old, beloved Firebolt.

 

It was good to see Teddy so happy, surrounded by his family. Ginny knew how much it meant to Harry to be there for his Godson, given his own troubled upbringing. Ginny herself took great pleasure in watching the three girls zip around the grounds too, their long hair sailing out behind them. When Ginny had wanted to fly when she was younger, she had been forced to break into her parents' broom shed. Not so her eldest daughters. They would be free to be whoever they wanted to be, no matter how unladylike some might think it.

 

Ginny was about to grab her own broom and join when she heard a faint boom from inside the house. Groaning, Ginny went in search of Fabian, Gideon and Ariana. No doubt the terrors were huddled over their dratted cauldron again.

 

She made her way down into the stone lined basement that her youngest spent so much time in, expecting the worst. True Horace had placed a number of protective enchantments on the potion making kit, but she'd grown up with Fred and George and her three terrors were cut from the same cloth.

 

A full cauldron and three nervous six-year-olds came into view. The potion they'd obviously been working on sat placidly in its container. The whole scene seemed completely innocent, save for the nervous looks on her children's faces.

 

“Okay, you three, 'fess up?” Ginny asked, as she always did when she caught the three of them up to mischief.

 

The three looked at each other, having a 'silent' argument with lots of glares, meaningful nods, and glances at mum. Ginny had long since learned how to speak twin, and triplet was little different.

 

Finally, the came to a decision and Ariana step forward, “I dropped some _porch-a-pine quills_ into the pot mum, but Gid' saved it.”

 

“And just how did Gideon save it?” asked Ginny.

 

“He used a thorn from _Lionspaw_ , it's a in... inhi... _inbitor_ ,” explained Fabian. Gideon nodded along solemnly.

 

Ginny let out a fond sigh and drew her children into a hug, “Just so long as your stay safe, that's all I care about. Well, that and not blowing up the house. Promise me you'll won't do anything _too_ reckless.”

 

Ariana and Fabian both chorused, “Yes mum,” but they were joined by a deep, gravely voice that said, “Oui Maman.”

Ginny froze, then slowly looked down at Gideon who was wincing under the twin glares of his brother and sister, “What was that, dear?” Ginny asked lightly.

 

Gideon looked from brother to sister helplessly for a moment before looking up at his mum, his eyes wide with fear, “ _Maman, ce n'est pas ma faute. Nous essayions de faire la potion de langue de George et je pense que nous avons fait quelque chose de mal!_ ”

 

The stream of words poured out of Gideon in the most insultingly stereotypical French accent possible. Ginny tried not to laugh, she really did. She kept her face straight for six whole seconds before her lips started to quiver, curling up at the sides. Then she snorted, then she laughed and soon she was crying she was laughing so hard.

 

“ _Maman, ce n'est pas drôle. Et si je suis coincé comme ça_?” Gideon said petulantly, stamping his little foot on the ground and crossing his arms.

  


Still laughing helplessly, Ginny managed to gasp out, “I'll have to trade you for one of Fleur's!”

 

“ _Bon sang! Je préfère quand elle nous crie_.” muttered Gideon as a still giggling Ginny ushered the three children out of the basement.

 

The four of them could hear Kreacher's guttural mumblings from the lounge room and went to investigate. They found the old elf setting the table, which had stretched to accommodate a whopping twenty-four people. Curious as to why Kreacher would angry with so much work to do Ginny sent the three terrors out to the backyard and approached the elf.

 

“Kreacher, is anything the matter?” she asked kindly.

 

Kreacher stiffened slightly and turned around into a low bow, “Oh no, Kreacher is perfectly fine thank you.”

 

“Kreacher, if something's wrong I want you to tell me,” said Ginny more firmly.

 

Kreacher bit his lip for a moment before making his mind up that Ginny had ordered him to confess, “Master Potter has instructed,” he gulped, “Kreacher to lay out Mistress's _fine_ silver... for the children!”  

 

Ginny was about to respond when a sharp rapping on the window drew her attention. It was Astoria's owl. A frisson of excitement rippled through her before coiling into her core. She drew her wand and opened the window. The owl immediately swooped in, landed and held out its leg and waited.

 

Ginny undid the string with trembling fingers taking hold of the vial before the owl took off again. Ginny made her way to Harry's study, her eyes locked on the memory in her hand.  

 

She poured the memory into Harry's pensive, turned to the study door and hit it with the strongest locking charm she knew. Then, she dived into the memory.

 

***

 

Ginny's hand slowly pushed under the elastic band of her underwear, her cool fingers reaching for her sex. Her heart beat a fierce tattoo from within her chest as her other hand mauled at her breasts through the fabric of her clothes. The filth that was pouring out of Astoria's mouth slithered into Ginny lust soaked brain where it sat boiling like molten steel.

 

Ginny let out a small breathy gasp as Astoria looked over her shoulder at Draco's dick, finally hard and just as the elegant Pure-Blood was about to sheathe him, a rapping on the door made Ginny freeze.

 

In a shattered second, she whipped her still wet hand out of her pants and clawed her way out of the memory. The beating of her heart, once pulsing in pleasure now thundered in panic as a sweat broke out on her brow.

 

Harry's study came into focus as she bent up from Pensive, a lie already half formed on her moist lips when she realised that she'd locked the door. Breathing a sigh of relief she wiped her fingers hurriedly on her trousers and tried to right herself as best she could.

 

Then she took a hold of the door knob and took a deep breath before yanking it open.

 

“Hermione!” she squeaked, “When did you get here?”

 

Hermione quirked her eyebrow, pulled back her sleeve and shook her wristwatch into position, “We're right on time? I told Ron it started a half hour before it did,” she said with a smug grin, “He and the kids are already outside with Harry and your lot.”

 

“Oh... oh right, I must have lost track of time,” said Ginny, finishing with a weak laugh.

 

Hermione's grin faded into a look of vague concern. Then she sniffed. Her brows met and she sniffed again.

 

“...Ginny... what's that smell?” she asked slowly.

 

“What smell?” asked Ginny as she hid her hand behind her back.

 

Hermione sniffed a third time then her eyes widened in shock before her face went beet red.

 

“Oh I'm so sorry!” she cried and made to rush off.

 

“Wait!” said Ginny, automatically grabbing Hermione's hand with her own. The one that had just been burrowing into her needy cunt.

 

They both froze, eyes locked on where Ginny gripped Hermione. For a long moment, nobody made a move. Then finally, Hermione slowly pulled herself away. Without meeting her friends' eyes, Hermione said in a quiet voice, “I'm going to go and wash up now. I suggest you do the same. Then we are going to talk, just you and me.”

 

And with that, she stepped away leaving Ginny to be consumed by the pure mortifying horror of the situation.

 

***

 

With a grace that belied how agitated she truly was, Hermione made her way to the downstairs toilet and closed the door behind her. She ran the hot tap but stilled, unwilling to wash Ginny's sent off her hand. Slowly she raised her hand up as the water continued to cascade out of the tap.

 

Hermione swallowed, then parted her lips and slowly pressed her mouth against Ginny's mark. The sharp taste danced across Hermione's tongue, so similar yet so different to her own. For a long guilty moment, Hermione savoured the forbidden flavour.

 

Finally, she lowered her hand and began to rinse it clean, unable to meet the accusing eyes of her reflection in the mirror above the sink.

 

***

 

Dinner was everything a guest might want; plentiful, varied and prolonged. Harry was sharing a laugh with Andi, no doubt over Teddy and Kreacher. George and his son Freddie were chatting with Ariana and Fabian about some potion while poor Gideon looked quite put out, sat atop Fleur's lap, with Victoire and Dominique on either side laughing at his ridiculous accent. Fleur even snorted a few times she was laughing so hard.

 

Louis Weasley was swaddled in a blanket that had clearly been made by Molly as he reached for Bills fingers with his tiny hands. James, Teddy, and Hugo were conspiring at the far end of the table.

 

But for Ginny, it was a torment. The heat of her body kept threatening to spill out onto her cheeks and she didn't dare leave her chair, for fear of revealing the wet patch her saturated groin had no doubt left.

 

She couldn't look at Harry for more than a moment without biting her lip and rubbing her thighs together and she was still too embarrassed to engage with Hermione. The few fleeting glances she'd thrown the brunette had revealed that Hermione was equally distracted by what had happened upstairs.

 

Her gaze slid over to Harry again, as she drank in his image. His hands rested casually on the table, slightly calloused from his work, large and strong, perfect for gripping her waist as he speared into her gushing cunt...

 

And she was gnawing at her lip and pressing her thighs together again. She couldn't help it! The memory of Draco's treatment cast Harry in such complementary contrast it had lit a fire inside Ginny that roared through her veins like _Fiendfyre._

 

Where Draco was weak, Harry was strong. Where Draco loathed to submit, Harry gave of himself freely, where the years had started to weigh on Draco, they seemed not to have touched Harry, save in the most beneficial ways.

 

And it was all just _right_!Draco deserved everything that was happening and Harry, her beautiful, caring Harry was due nothing but day after day of happiness.   

 

_***_

 

Finally as desert came to a close, Harry, James and Teddy having devoured an entire treacle tart between them, the various guessed retired across the house. Teddy, James and Fred ran off, no doubt up to no good and the girls save for Ariana held council in one of the bedrooms. The terrors were down in the basement, explaining to George just how they'd turned their birth-mate into a walking stereotype.

 

Ginny remained seated where she was and let the house exist around her as she bounced between profound contentment and frenzied desire to shame and various mixtures of all three.

 

Ginny was startled out of her revelry when Rose, Lily, Luna and Dominique burst into the lounge room, bawling as only young girls could. Dora followed looking surly. Between much sobbing, hiccuping and demands for hugs they let the parents know that James Teddy, Hugo and Fred were being bullies.  

 

Without a second thought, Ginny left her seat, marched to the bottom of the stair case and called the boys, doing an admirable impression of Molly Weasley when she was on a tear, secretly glad for the distraction.

 

Looking guilty but defiant, the four boys slouched into the room, wilting under the look Ginny was giving them. Ginny was ready to bring the hammer down when Harry approached and whispered in her ear. Ginny looked up at him questioningly before slowly nodding.

 

Harry turned to the boys, his face grim, “Okay boys, I want to show you something before mum starts yelling at you.” Then he strode out of the room with the boys in toe. Ginny brought up the rear, curious as to what Harry had planned. As she followed the group up stairs she noticed Hermione had joined them.

 

Harry stopped by his study door, and Ginny broke out in a cold sweat. Harry ushered everyone into the room and frowned when he saw his Pensive full of someone's memory.

 

“Ginny have you been using my Pensive?” he asked.

 

“Yes... I- it was for Quidditch replays,” she said in a rush, “Just give me a moment and I'll bottle it back up.”

 

“No worries, maybe we can review it together later,” offered Harry with a smile.

 

At those words, Ginny almost dropped the bottle she was feeding the memory into, “Wha- oh no, sorry it's classified by the team...”

 

Harry just nodded and turned to the four boys who stood nervously in the room with them, “Okay, I understand you thought you were just playing but I think... I hope you're old enough to see this,” He placed the tip of his wand against his temple and pulled a glowing white strand of memory out, before placing it in the bowl, “I want to show you why I think it's the worst thing in the world to be a bully. I'm going to show you 'Harry Hunting.'”

 

He then explained how the pensive worked and then he and the four boys leaned into the Pensive.

 

Hermione turned on Ginny, “Alright Ginny, what's going on?” she demanded.

 

***

Hermione tucked her two children into bed, primping the blankets and sliding the window ajar, just how they liked it. Rose had her head buried in a book and Hermione knew enough that she'd sleep only when she'd finished reading.

 

No, it was Hugo that concerned her. The four boys had come out of the pensive, white faced and shaky. They'd fallen over themselves apologising to the girls and kept shooting Harry wide eyed glances. After that, the boys had all been unnaturally quiet, clearly overwhelmed by what they had witnessed.

 

Hugo sat in his bed, looking like he wanted to ask something, so Hermione waited while he sorted out what exactly he wanted to ask. Finally, his hands fidgeting and his eyes downcast he asked his mum, “You don't think I'm a bully, do you?”

 

Hermione drew her youngest into a hug and stroked his wavy red hair, “No I don't think you're a bully, dear. But all of us can be bullies, at times. What's important is that you choose not to be.”

 

“They were _so_ mean to him!” said Hugo, the shock of his uncle's treatment evident in his voice.

 

“I know, I know,” Hermione said soothingly, “but he's got us now, he's surrounded by family, it just brings it all back when he sees his family fighting.”

 

“I'll never tease the girls again!” Hugo declared.

 

Hermione laughed and squeezed her son tighter, “Don't make promises you can't keep. Besides, sometimes they need a little teasing.”

 

She waved her wand and the lights of the room dimmed and she kissed Hugo one last time and left the room in time to hear Ron step out of the floo.

 

“Here you go, Mrs. Granger-Weasley. One Auror Pensive as requested, pilfered personally from the ministry. Now spill. Why in Merlin's name couldn't this wait until tomorrow?”

 

“Because the memory I copied is degrading as we speak!” With that, she motioned for Ron to place the pensive on the ground and she quickly poured the content of her duplicated vial into it.

 

“Where did you even get that?” Ron asked.

 

“Well, I... I stole it from Ginny, but Ron, oh, she wasn't acting normally.”

 

Ron just cocked an eyebrow, waiting.

 

“Whatever is going on has something to do with this memory. And you know what happened with the diary...”

 

“So you robbed my sister?” asked Ron skeptically.

 

“Oh it wasn't like that,” Hermione protested, “I just hit her with a sneezing hex then copied the memory when she was distracted. And that's why we need to check it tonight. The copy won't survive much longer.”

 

Ron just looked at her for a long moment before throwing up his hands in surrender, “Alright, but if it's something innocent then you have to make it up to her, somehow.”

 

Hermione nodded and uncorked the memory and poured it into the Pensive.

 

As they landed in the memory is was clear that they wouldn't have long. Even now the images were becoming vague and the words being spoken muffled.

 

But for all that, Ron and Hermione didn't have any trouble making out what was going on.

 

A slim, petite woman, clad in the remains of a dress and long, sharp heels, rode her partners face with wild abandon. The man slowly rose to attention and part of Hermione couldn't help but compare it unfavourably to her husband's.

 

Hermione tore her eyes away from the scene and watched as Ron slowly prowled around the couple, making a wide circle around the chaise lounge that the unknown pair rutted on. She could see him thinking, see his eyes darting around, taking in everything he could.

  

The naked feminine form looked over her shoulder and spotted her partner's arousal and said something, but the meaning was lost as the memory continued to deteriorate. Then the form moved to straddle her partner's erection before sinking down on it.

 

For a long moment, the form of the woman gyrated atop the man who remained curiously still throughout. Then, even through the vagueness of the image, Hermione could make out the signs of frustration. The woman leaned down and whispered something into the man's ear, “I hope you can cum for me, my love. I'm not sure you managed to clean everything out of me. With all the movement down there you might just push some of _his_ seed into me. You know how potent he is. Just imagine it darling, a whole generation of your glorious line with black hair.”

 

Her laughter was cruel and became distorted as the memory fell apart. Then Ron and Hermione were standing in her office once more. Hermione didn't dare speak and Ron said nothing at all, a thoughtful look on his face.

 

Hermione began to fidget as the seconds dragged on and still Ron was silent.

 

Just as Hermione opened her mouth, Ron's head snapped up and his blue eyes met hers, “Follow me,” he said with the same voice he ordered his Auror's around.

 

Her eyes suddenly wide, Hermione followed after her husband as he made his way down to the basement. Ron stood in front of a book case and reached for the highest shelf and tapped rhythmically on a small book call, “ _Dictionary of Tautologies: A Wordbook of Redundancies by Bob Roberts”_ and all the books on the case began to rearrange themselves just like the bricks at the back of the Leaky Cauldron did.

 

“In,” said Ron, his tone firm, though he wasn't frowning.

 

With all the dignity of a queen, Hermione strode passed her husband into the room. Ron closed the secret door behind them with a casual wave of his wand.

 

“Please explain?” Ron asked, his voice light.

 

Hermione was still shocked by what they'd seen and took a long moment to gather herself. Finally she looked up, meeting Ron's gaze, “When... when we arrived and I went to find Ginny, she was, well... _shewasmasturbating,”_ Hermione blushed beet red and took a deep breath before continuing, “and then when we went to use the pensive after the fight, there was a memory already in there. Ginny bottled it as quickly as possible but I could tell she was hiding something. Then Harry offered to watch it with her and she said it was confidential Quidditch replays. I could just tell something was wrong and I just couldn't let it rest!”

 

“You still acted like an impulsive teenager tonight. What made you do it?” Ron asked.

 

“I know,” confessed Hermione, her shoulder's slumping, “It's just it's something I've been noticing lately. Ever since... anyway, I was talking to Ginny and all of us are getting, well; more depraved.”

 

Ron's eyebrows rose in surprise, “I can't say I think what we do here is depraved, we both have fun, we follow the rules.”

 

“Oh Ron, surely you've noticed, I mean, can you imagine us, even a few years ago, doing this kind of stuff?”

 

“I-” Ron started but Hermione held her hands up.

 

“No Ron, really _think_ , I'm worried about us and then I found Ginny hiding something and I just had to find out I-”

 

This time it was Ron who held his hands up, “Are you saying you no longer want to do this?”

 

“No! I love what we do together-”

 

“-Good, then we'll discuss it all in the morning, or on the weekend with Harry and Ginny. Now please make a selection,” Ron said, gesturing to the paraphernalia that lined the walls.

 

“But-”

 

“Hermione, you may have done the right thing but you still invaded Ginny's privacy and acted without thinking everything through. Besides you can't show me something like that,” he pointed to the roof in the rough direction of the Pensive, “and expect me to just sleep on it. You can, of course, say the word and we stop right here.”

 

“NO!”

 

“Then choose.”

 

Hermione thought for a moment, “You said I acted childishly right.”

 

“I did,” replied Ron.

 

“Hand, Tawse, No.3 for me and No. 2 for you, over the desk, then kneeling, all over.”

 

“The lady knows what she wants,” Ron said with a wicked grin.

 

Hermione passed him a potion and as one they uncorked and downed their doses. Ron hunched over, his hands on his knees, and let out a low groan of pain. Hermione meanwhile began to shrink slightly. Her hips narrowed, her face rounded slightly, her teeth gained a slight prominence and her burst shrunk.

 

In the space of a second, Hermione looked like she was fifteen again. Ron straightened up but didn't look any younger. He wiped his sweaty hand on his robe and made his way awkwardly over to the large desk at the back of the room. There he gingerly sat down and pulled out some correspondence from work and began looking at it. He ignored his wife completely.

 

Finally, Hermione couldn't wait anymore, “...Sir?” she started, her newly youthful voice just shy of timid.

 

Ron held a hand up, motioning her to silence and continued to stare at the files on his desk. He let the moment drag out, forcing Hermione to wait, to bend to his schedule, his will.

 

Here and now, he was master, as she was to be punished.

 

He collected the files, the contents of which he hadn't taken in at all and placed them in a draw. He steepled his hands and rested his chin upon them, “It seems like a week can't go by without you ending up in my office Miss Granger. What do you have to say for yourself?” he demanded with all the withering ire of an exhausted Hogwarts professor.  

 

Hermione didn't answer. Instead, she hung her head, as if in shame. But here in this room she never felt shame, here she was free.

 

Hermione discreetly pointed her wand at her robes and transfigured them into a wanton parody of her Hogwarts robes. Her dress shortened into a tight woolen jumper, like the ones she wore during the colder months in Scotland. It was relatively modest by all measures, but that effect ended at the skirt she'd conjured. Pleated and the correct colour was where any nod to regulation ended. The fabric barely curved the curve of her pert backside and the stockings ended high on her thigh, leaving the tiniest margin of pale, smooth skin. The sheer black stockings clung to every flowing contour of her legs before disappearing into a pair of shoes, the heels of which, were at least an inch higher than one could get away with if Professor McGonagall had anything to say about it.

 

“I'm sorry Sir,” she said, and she meant it.

 

They were no longer the squabbling teens they had once been. But they remained the strong personalities they always were. So they'd set rules for each other to avoid conflict. Together they had written up a list, something that had quietly thrilled Hermione. At first, it was things like, 'No reading after ten pm' or 'No Quidditch talk at the table except on game days' but it had quickly taken a turn towards their shared kinks.

 

Hermione had been particularly flustered by a picture of her Auror husband on the front of the Daily Prophet. Ron rarely looked quite so heroic and just plain yummy.  So she'd deliberately stayed in her home office well passed their agreed upon curfew and when Ron confronted her about it, all she'd done was cock an eyebrow and asked in a breathy voice, “What are you going to do about it?”

 

They'd fucked like animals all over her notes.

 

And they'd never really looked back. Soon they'd hashed out a new list of 'punishments' and then Ron had gone had installed 'their' room as a secret birthday present so they could act out all sorts of delicious punishments.

 

“It seems,” said Ron, interrupting Hermione's revery, “that I'll have to take you in hand... again.”

 

“Yes sir,” she Hermione meekly, chewing on her lip in anticipation.

 

“Yes _Professor_ ,” Ron corrected sternly.

 

“Yes Professor.”

 

“Hand on my desk, shoulder width apart,” Ron commanded as he stood up and joined her on her side of the desk.

 

Hermione shivered at his forceful tone. When the mood struck, it drove her wild. She knew that she'd be dripping wet soon. She bent over at the waist, her skirt sliding yet higher over the rise of her ass, with her hands flat on the table.

 

Ron loomed over her, he positively towered over her in her younger form, and produced a wooden rule and tapped very lightly on Hermione's left hand.

 

Hermione fought not to flinch. She had broken the rules and that meant giving herself over to her husband for the night.

 

“Hmmmm, normally I'd wrap you over the knuckles until the lesson really sunk in, but... if you can't hold a quill tomorrow that poses a problem. Do you know what problem that is, Miss Granger?”

 

“No Professor”

 

He moved in closer, his breath sending shivers as it winnowed through her hair,“If you can't hold a quill, some other professor, blissfully ignorant of your need for correction will just send you to the hospital wing to be healed in an instant, allowing you to forget the lesson I intend to pound into you tonight.”

 

Oh gods, thought Hermione, he was so fucking good at this. She glanced down at her legs and could see a single clear line of her arousal beading down her leg.  

 

“No, I shall have to think of somewhere else to impart this lesson. Do you have any suggestions, Miss Granger?” he asked, his town ever so faintly mocking.

 

Hermione blushed, once they started on this particular game she always became as timid as a mouse. Her mouth, dry she swallowed then in barely more than a whisper she said, “M-my arse, Professor.”

 

“I'm Sorry Miss Granger, I didn't quite hear that, do speak up.” He placed his large hand flat on the table next to hers as if to emphasise just how much bigger he was.

 

Hermione looked at the hand and imagined it striking her, the sting, the jolt, the burn, the desire, “My arse, Professor,” she said, louder this time.

 

“I suppose that works, after all, you have acted like a child,” Ron said, resting the ruler over Hermione's hands, “That rule is not to move until I move it. Understood?”

 

“Yes Professor.”

 

Ron pushed off from the desk and prowled around the room behind her, letting her feel his menace. She longed to look back over her shoulder, but she knew that wasn't allowed right now. This part of the dance was his and he would lead the steps when he saw fit. Besides the waiting was driving her wild.

 

He brushed passed her, his arm gusting passed her proffered behind, raising Goosebumps over the small amount of exposed skin.

 

Then out of nowhere, it came.

 

A firm opened handed slap to her behind. Ron hadn't hit her hard, but he had followed through, and she almost toppled forward on his desk.

 

“Tsk tsk, Granger,” Ron said, and placed one hand so that it was cupping her upper thigh, his fingers pressing dreadful close to her mons.

 

Another strike, this time to the opposite cheek, but he held her in place with the hand on her thigh. He continued this pattern, the hand close to her sex was pushed ever closer to her burning groin as each smack pushed her forward and his strong hand pulled her back into position.

 

SMACK!.

 

Ron's bare hand made contact with the band on unprotected flesh between her far too short skirt and her high stockings. A bright pink rushed to the surface of her skin where his blow had landed and the heat from between her legs was joined by a new source.

 

Hermione bit her lip and stifled a moan. As his hand pulled away he ran it up and down the reddening flesh, sending thrills of delight racing to her groin and up her spine.

 

“What's this?” Ron asked, his voice cold and mocking. He held his hand in front of her downcast face and his fingers glistened with her arousal. Before Hermione could think of an answer Ron continued, “I am told, though I don't quite believe it, that you are passable at Potions. Tell me Granger, what have I got on my fingers?”

 

Hermione somehow blushed harder. He was such a bastard... but tonight she loved it, she reveled in her helplessness.

 

Taking a deep breath Hermione dutifully started listing out the way in which you could discern the properties of an unknown substance. But Ron cut her off.

 

“Wrong!” he barked and shoved his fingers in her mouth and spread the taste all over her tongue.

 

Hermione's knees shook and her mind, always on the lookout for new connections, flashed to the memory of savouring the forbidden flavour of her friend's arousal. So similar and yet so different.

 

“Looks like you've got my hand all covered in filth,” said Ron idly as he pulled his hand from her needy mouth. Ron took a hold of the hem of Hermione's pleated dress and ripped it in two, then roughly yanked it off her, leaving her ass bare to the cool air of their room.

 

Ron wiped his hands clean on her destroyed clothing, then leaned over her, his breath in her ear, “You didn't need that did you?”

 

“No, Professor!” cried Hermione as a shiver ran down her spine.

 

Ron noticed and eyed the pleasing jiggle of her round ass. He pushed off the table and moved so he was standing behind her, “It's time you were honest, Miss Granger. I'm going to keep going until I feel you've told me everything.”

 

And with that he raised his large hand and brought it down.

 

The impact sent another jolt through Hermione.

 

Slowly he broke her in with lighter hits. Hits meant to sting slightly followed by strikes that finished in his long fingers clutching into her soft flesh followed by strikes meant to echo through her.

 

Soon enough her pale skin had become a beautiful rose red and Ron took it to the next level. For him this was all about control, about pacing, about teasing Hermione to her limits, coaxing her ever onwards, never forcing her.

 

It was a delicate dance they shared, to hurt but not to harm. Control was given, Hermione in trust and Ron in responsibility. He knew that one wrong move could set them back or even draw their evening to a close, but the temptation to push just a little bit further called to him.

 

“Well Miss Granger, anything you'd care to share?” he asked, his hand resting lightly on her burning skin.

 

“No, Professor!”

 

“Very well,” said Ron with a shrug.

 

His arm reached out and he pushed the side of his broad wrist against her mouth, silently ordering her to open her mouth and lightly bite it. When that was done, he brought his hand high and brought it down on the sensitive flesh of her upper thigh.

 

Hermione flinched as the pain rushed up her body and she bit into Ron's wrist. Ron Grabbed hard on the thick, smooth thigh, his index finger reaching achingly close to her gaping, wet cunt.

 

He brought his hand up again, and this time struck her other thigh and against Hermione bit into Ron's arm.

 

“Well Miss Granger?” he asked.

 

“I took something that wasn't mine!” she confessed.

 

“That's right,” said Ron approvingly, and he stuck two fingers into her pussy.

 

Hermione's eyes rolled into the back of her head as Ron expertly ran his fingers along the ribbed area at the roof of her entrance. He pulled his fingers out far too soon for Hermione's liking and smeared clear substance all over her red behind.

 

“Why?” he demanded.

 

“To protect her!” Hermione panted.

 

“Liar!” barked Ron.

 

The twin dragon leather tails of the tawse whistled through the air and crashed into Hermione, branding her. Hermione cried out in pain and collapsed forwards onto the desk, her legs limp, her pussy gaping with need.

 

“You took it because you thought you knew better!” roared Ron, and again he struck at her with a fierce backhand.

 

Hermione shriek tore wonderfully at her throat, her head ablaze with pain and a deep mesmerous pleasure. She tears ran down her face and pooled on the hard wooden surface of the table as she clung to it for dear life.

 

Great sobs racked her body as she let go of everything as her mind blessedly slowed.

 

All there was, all there would ever be was the pain, the heat, and the waiting.

 

“You acted without thinking, like the impulsive little girl you are!”

 

This time the tawse seared across the hypersensitive flesh of her upper thigh.

 

Hermione let out a broken cry of pain, that was cut short as Ron plunged his fingers back into her, the pain shooting up her spine becoming knotted with the overlapping waves of pleasure his large fingers dug out of her.

 

Ron continued to raid her cunt for everything it was worth as his other hand struck sharp fast hits over her ass.

 

The fingers digging into her and the rhythmic assault of the tawse quickly overwhelmed Hermione as she was left a shuddering, panting creature that cared only for its own gratification.

 

Her walls began to clench at Ron's fingers, her core pulsating as each breath brought her closer and closer to ecstasy. Her legs remained limp but she managed to arch her back up over and over, begging Ron to push in deeper, to reach into her soul and own her.

 

And then the wave crashed and Hermione began to convulse uncontrollably. Her pussy pulsated, trying to milk Ron's fingers, desperate for his seed.

 

Before she knew what was happening, Ron yanked her roughly off the table. She would have fallen in a limp pile save for Ron's vice like grip on the collar of her jumper.

 

“Grab my fucking balls!” he bellowed as his other hand pumped up and down his cock.

 

With hands still wracked by the spasms of her pleasure Hermione obeyed. Her cool hands came into contact with Ron's balls. They were massive, impossibly large. Each one the size of a grapefruit. The skin of his sack stretched tight across their vastness. She could see tendrilling veins, pushed to the surface by and could feel his heart beating wildly.

 

The swung pendulously in her hands and she half believed she could feel the buckets of rich seed sloshing in them.

 

Oh gods, she moaned to herself. He was going to drench her, cover every little bit of her. No one would ever be able to touch her without touching a place stained by her man's cum. Her pussy clenched tightly, clear honey like fluid fell from her in large heavy strings as she climaxed again.

 

He was going to coat her, bath her, claim her.

 

Ron's breath came in irregular gasps as his hand flew up and down the length of his cock. The slit at the tip of his bulbous glans expelled a constant stream of glistening pre-cum and Hermione bent down slightly to let it pool in her open, whorish mouth.  

 

The potion has done its work well. Not only had Ron's testicles been enhanced to inhuman levels but the endless stream that poured from the head of his cock tasted amazing and smelled like Amortentia.

 

She could tell Ron was getting closer and closer, his loins had started to pulse and his pre-cum was now being forced out in long spurts that splattered all over her face. She breathed in the heady scent and couldn’t help but release Ron's ball and grabbed his cock.

 

Ron was too far gone to command her to stop and she held his length in both hands then slathered the sweaty, sticky, throbbing length of meat all over her face. She bit at it, she licked it, she pressed it to her nose and breathed it and she pumped it.

 

It was too much. Ron roared like a beast and his cock jerk wildly in his wife's tiny hands and he began to unload. His hips bucked forward on their own and a stream of pearly white cum shot from him. He could feel it bulge it's way up his cock then burst out into the light.

 

The powerful shot arched through the air and crashed like a wave into Hermione's face, her mouth open as wide as possible, her tongue stuck out, begging him to fill her mouth.

 

The ribbon of thick white seed slashed across her face and into her whorish mouth. She swirled the potion enhanced load with her mouth, savouring the incredible flavour.  

Ron's hips bucked again and his next shot dwarfed his opening salvo. A torrent of cum burst forth in a long continuous stream.

 

Hermione's eyes rolled into the back of her head as Ron shot endless amounts of cum into her mouth and all over her face. Her hands left Ron as she started to play with the tacky, hot cum that dripped from her face.

 

Ron's cock leaped in the air again and before his last shot had ended, another wave of cum blasted out of him onto the kneeling form of his shaking wife.

 

Hermione cupped her hands in front of her face as Ron surged again. Her hands were soon full and dripping with her man's fiery hot cum. She rose up on her knees, cradling the cup's worth of seed she pushed the tattered remnants of her dress to the side and began to grind her fifteen-year-old cunt into her cum soaked hands.

 

Together they orgasmed and bucked, Ron, standing tall over the rutting form of his wife, wearing the body of her school days as she desperately packed her pussy with the cum that still flowed from his cock.

 

Finally, Ron's eruption slowed to a trickle and Hermione lunged forward, mouth first onto his cock.

 

Ron let out a yelp as his hypersensitive tip was engulfed in his wife cum hungry mouth. Her tongue swirled his glans and Ron eyes shot open wide as one last cheek bulging spurt of cum filled Hermione's needy mouth to bursting.

 

He stayed locked in that moment for an unknowable amount of time, his eyes closed, his hands on either side of his wife's head as she continued to shiver below him.

 

Slowly he came back to himself. He looked down at his wife who was still desperately pushing her face into his groin and playing with her herself. She was a mess. A white, soaked, beautiful mess; and he loved her.

 

But their game wasn't over yet.

 

“Granger, you're filthy. Not that I really expected anything better. Now clean me up and sort yourself out before I return.” and he held out his cum coated hands for her to lick clean. Hermione took to it with a passion and soon Ron felt he was clean enough and reached for his wand. With lazy motion, he returned his pants and shoes to their former, pristine condition and walked out of the room without a backward glance.

 

Hermione sat, kneeling on the ground in the now empty room, her body still quivering occasionally. Her breath came in deep ragged gasps and her spasms renewed each time she tried to sit down. The jolt of pain that her stinging, ruby red flesh sent through her forced her body to constrict, making her convulse again and again.

 

The river of Ron's cum slowly dropped from her sodden form and her cunt was gaping obscenely underneath her, squirting out jets of clear grool each time she tensed.

 ***

On the other side of the secret door, Ron collapsed into a chair and braced himself for the after effects of the potion. He clenched his teeth as his balls began to shrink back to their normal size.

 

Unbidden his mind sought for distraction and being the Auror that he was, it focused on the many questions that had been razed this night.

 

Why did Ginny have that memory? How was the memory of? Did Harry know and should Ron tell him? And was this ultimately any of his business anyway?

 

He knew he’d be like a dog with a bone until he got some answers and his beautiful, wonderful wife would be in any state to answer questions tonight. Sighing, he got up out of his chair and entered their secret room.

 

He found Hermione lying on the ground, a blissful look on her face and her body sporadically quivering in the aftershock.

 

Smiling to himself at a job well done, he gently levitated his wife into the air and vanished the evidence of their play. He floated her into his arms and making sure not to touch her inflamed skin, he carried upstairs to the bathroom.

 

Still holding his wife bridal style, he managed to point his wand at the bath taps. The water rose quickly and filled the room with steam. Then he carefully divested his wife of her remaining clothes and lowered her slowly into the water.

 

He removed his own clothes and removed the stoppers from several bottles, and pour some of the contents into the bath. Then he climbed in, after his wife and held her as the soothing oils went to work on her abused skin.

 

He let out a sigh and Hermione, now half asleep nuzzled deeper into his chest.

 

Perhaps his questions could wait until another day.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, a spanking scene where the spanker doesn't make the spankee count out the hits. Who knew that was possible. Also a small scene of aftercare as well. 
> 
> I had a lot of trouble figuring out Ron and Hermione, I hope this feels right for the story and hope you enjoyed it. I have another scene planned for them later but the next chapter will be more H/G D/A goodness.


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